


A Forgotten Promise

by emeraldvssilver



Series: A Binding Promise [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst, Basilisks, Bottom Draco Malfoy, Bottom Harry Potter, Dark Mark, Death Eaters, Dementors, Dumbledore's Army, Good Albus Dumbledore, Hogwarts Chamber of Secrets, Hogwarts Sixth Year, Lucius Malfoy Dies, M/M, Magical Bond, Memory Loss, Narcissa Malfoy is a good Mum, Parseltongue, Remus/Sirius if you look hard enough, Sequel, Sexually Experienced Characters, Sirius Black Lives, Top Draco Malfoy, Top Harry Potter, Wordcount: Over 100.000, completed fic, updated daily
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-23
Updated: 2021-02-03
Packaged: 2021-03-10 05:08:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 60
Words: 149,163
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27677851
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emeraldvssilver/pseuds/emeraldvssilver
Summary: Harry managed to survive his Fifth Year by the skin of his teeth. So going into his Sixth Year he's determined to spend his time playing Quidditch, studying, and working out exactly what this Soulbond means for for him and his Soulmate. He refuses to let any near death experiences ruin their year this time.Then Draco Malfoy mysteriously disappears from Hogwarts, leaving Harry to spiral down into a pit of despair. When he returns two weeks later he claims a Quidditch accident sent him to St Mungo's and a year of his memories have been lost. With the help of a little bit of experimental magic can Harry remind Draco of who he is before it's too late? Should be easy with Ron and Hermione on the case. Except...they can't remember Harry ever dating Draco either.Sequel to A Binding Promise
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Series: A Binding Promise [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2023951
Comments: 239
Kudos: 279





	1. Prologue

Prologue

Harry was standing in the smallest bedroom at number 4 Privet Drive, staring out of the window with a level of concentration that was usually reserved for finding the Snitch during a Quidditch match. Keeping his eyes glued to the road below wasn’t as easy as it should have been. The thick fog that had permeated throughout the country fell heavily on the suburban streets of Surrey, chilling the late June air. It was unusual even for the typical English weather, and it hadn’t passed the Muggles notice either, it was being reported on the weather channel daily.  
  
Harry was leaning close enough to the window that his warm breath fogged against the cool glass impairing his vision enough for him to keep wiping the condensation away every minute or so. In the bedroom behind him the bed was neatly made, the closet was empty barring a few items of Dudley’s that had overflowed his own wardrobe. The desk was clear of the school books, quills, and parchment that had been littered across it for the past month. And hidden under a threadbare rug, and a loose floorboard Harry’s food stash had been meticulously cleared out. In fact, the only indication that Harry had been living in this house at all was the large, heavy, school trunk that sat upright next to the door and the large brass bird cage that held a sleeping Snowy Owl.  
  
Even with the danger that lurked over the country the Muggles lives continued on. Harry could hear the TV blaring the six o’clock news from the living room, Aunt Petunia was clattering with pots and pans as she deep cleaned through the kitchen cabinets, Dudley was slamming the front door closed behind him and thundering up the stairs to his room without a word to either of his parents who called out a greeting to him. Harry ignored all of it. Far too focused on the end of the street to care about the comings and goings of his so-called “family”. In the days leading up to this moment he would have been bothered about who was in and who was out, if only so he could avoid the Dursleys as much as possible. But now that he was on the cusp of leaving this house for another full year he couldn’t find it within himself to care. When Dudley threw his Playstation controller to the floor for the third time that evening, Harry finally spotted something out of the ordinary materialise at the end of Privet Drive. Luckily for him, out of the ordinary was exactly what he was waiting for.


	2. Chapter 2

Harry stepped through the large darkened doorway, grateful to leave behind the chilly and foggy June night in favour of stepping into the aged and worn Black House. Although at first glance it looked significantly less drab and depressing as it had the last time he was there, Sirius must have made some good progress with the remodelling and Harry had no doubt that Narcissa Malfoy would have had a fair hand in that. Dumbledore was quick to follow him in, and he closed the door behind them with a muted snap. Harry turned to him in the Entrance Hall and began to open his mouth to say…well he wasn't sure really. It had been a bit of a whirlwind of an evening and he couldn’t choose a place to start even if he tried. The elation of leaving the Dursleys for another year, combined with Dumbledore apparating him away to meet Horace Slughorn, and then the imminent reuniting with his sorely missed Soulmate all seemed to clash together and fight for dominance. Luckily, Harry wasn’t given a chance to speak. Dumbledore placed his good hand on Harry’s shoulder and steered him in the direction of the kitchen and dining room. They silently passed the closed curtains that covered the portrait of Sirius’s horrendous Mother and entered the kitchen without rousing her.  
  
“Harry!” Harry almost had the breath knocked out of him when he was pulled into a bone crushing hug from Mrs Weasley the moment he stepped into the room. Over her shoulder, and through the veil of her flyaway red hair, he saw Narcissa Malfoy sitting at the long dining table, a cup of tea in front of her and a black and silver cane resting against the side of her chair. Opposite her, and standing to greet him next, was Sirius Black, Harry returned his grin over Mrs Weasley's shoulder but didn’t force her away from him just yet. He wouldn’t admit to needing the comfort as much as she did, after a month of next to no physical contact Harry wasn't quick to turn it away when it was offered.  
  
“Now Molly, let the boy breathe.” Sirius commented, he patted Mrs Weasley on the shoulder who reluctantly pulled away with a deep sniffle. Sirius took her place, tugging Harry into a tight hug that really betrayed just how worried he had been while Harry had been forced to stay with the Dursleys. Harry half noticed Molly greeting Dumbledore and offering him a cup of tea behind him, but he was too preoccupied with hugging Sirius back and enjoying the feeling of being around Witches and Wizards again.   
  
He always missed being around the Wizarding world when he was at the Dursleys, mostly because they treated him like shit, but even more so this summer. With next to no word about Voldemort and his movements, and limited contact with his friends, Harry had felt almost as isolated as he had last summer. The shining star of the entire summer so far was the Dursleys leaving him mostly alone so he could actually spend time on his summer assignments, and spend his days writing to Draco through their two-way journals. Speaking of Draco.  
  
“Where’s Draco?” He asked, pulling away from Sirius and facing the other adults in the room.  
  
“Draco’s in bed. We weren’t expecting you until the morning. I’m sure he would have stayed up had he known you’d be arriving so soon.” Mrs Malfoy commented with a small smirk, she was well acquainted with her son and his antics where Harry Potter was concerned.  
  
“You have arrived earlier than expected,” Mrs Weasley agreed, “Did all go well, Albus?”  
  
“Indeed, Harry was most effective at convincing Horace to return.”  
  
“I didn’t do much really.” Harry shrugged.  
  
“I imagine collecting the great Harry Potter was too tempting for him to refuse. You’ll be the highlight of his collection Harry.” Sirius teased, more than aware of Slughorn’s collecting obsession from his own days at Hogwarts. Harry punched him in the shoulder lightly and rolled his eyes.  
  
“Would you like something to eat Harry dear?” Mrs Wesley asked. A part of Harry wanted to say no so he could finally go climb into bed with Draco, but he was betrayed by his stomach letting out an almost comical growl.  
  
“Yes please, Mrs Weasley.”  
  
“Sit down, sit down.” She waved him towards the table and pressed him down into one of the chairs, “Albus, that cup of tea?”  
  
“Ah, no thank you Molly. Pressing matters to be seeing to, I must be taking my leave I’m afraid.”  
  
“Very well, Albus. Safe travels.” She turned to a large pot that sat on the stove, it must have been under a warming charm because there was no heat source that Harry could see.  
  
“Good evening, Molly. Sirius, Narcissa, Harry.” Dumbledore nodded to each of them in turn before collecting his cloak behind him and sweeping out of the room.  
  
Mrs Weasley placed a large bowl of onion soup in front of him and passed him a basket of crusty bread rolls before continuing to bustle around the kitchen, organising plates, folding laundry and generally keeping her hands busy. Every now and then her eyes would dart to the Weasley Family clock which was nestled in a pile of unfolded washing, all the hands were pointed at Mortal Peril, one for each member of the Weasley family. He could understand why Mrs Weasley had taken to carrying it around with her.  
  
“Ron, Hermione and Draco, will all be glad you’ve arrived safely. They’ve been a little on edge about it today.” Sirius said.  
  
“Hermione’s here already?” Harry asked, with no small amount of shock. He hadn't expected Hermione to want to leave her parents so soon with everything going on with the Muggles and Muggle-borns.   
  
“She arrived yesterday.”   
  
“Who’s staying at the Burrow, Mrs Weasley?” He knew Grimmauld Place was bigger than it looked but even with the help of magic it would be incredibly difficult to fit the long term Order members, the entire Weasley family, the Malfoys and Harry and Hermione. She glanced at the clock out of habit, as though it held the answers. Though he supposed it usually would have done.  
  
“Bill is holding down the fort, along with Fleur and a few Order Members."  
  
“Delacour? From the Triwizard Tournament?”  
  
“They’re an...item.” Harry suspected that there was slightly more to it than that but he resigned himself to asking Ron and Hermione about it later, it didn’t seem like Mrs Weasley was going to be very forthcoming with that information given the tight purse of her lips that was so reminiscent of Petunia Dursley.  
  
“How’s Draco doing, Mrs Malfoy? He keeps telling me he’s fine, but I’m not too convinced.” Harry quickly changed the subject.  
  
“He’s handling things well, all things considered. We never imagined that he would have to take on the mantle of Lord Malfoy at such a young age and I’m afraid we failed to fully prepare him for all it entails.”  
  
“Couldn’t you step in until he's ready?” Harry asked.  
  
“I am afraid that the Malfoy ancestors weren’t so accommodating towards their female counterparts. Only a male is able to take on the mantle of Heir and Lord."  
  
"Draco tried to explain it to me but I think you did a better job." Harry smiled at her gratefully, "He’s been keeping things close to the chest, I’ve noticed.”  
  
“He’s processing.” Sirius commented, “But he’s coping. Narcissa and I are meeting with Draco daily to help him catch up with everything.”  
  
“He mentioned, but he hasn’t gone into specifics. I expect he’ll tell me face to face though, I haven’t wanted to push him on anything.” Draco had been fairly adamant on changing the subject whenever Harry had tried to ask about his summer so far, preferring topics around how much of an idiot Dudley had been that day, or their summer assignments.   
  
“That’s probably for the best. I have no doubt he’ll confide more in you than he would myself or Narcissa.” Sirius said, as Mrs Malfoy nodded along with him in complete agreement.  
  
“How’s Malfoy Manor coming along? Draco said it wasn’t ready to go back to yet?” Harry asked while eating. When Draco became Lord of the Manor the blood magics deferred to him and Voldemort was forced out, along with the Death Eaters. Apparently, Voldemort was very good at leaving curses and traps in the places he leaves, Draco had told him that it took a whole team of curse breakers to even breach the front door.  
  
“There are a number of cleansing rituals that we need to undertake to rid it of any underlying dark magic. I’ve visited twice to ensure that any dark objects are removed and placed in the hands of the proper authorities. It’s a slow process, but it's a start to the amends that the Malfoy family has to make.”  
  
“Bill’s been leading a curse breaking team through the premises.” Molly said, and for the first time since Harry's arrival she sounded cheerful.  
  
“William has been a wonderful help.” Mrs Malfoy added with a considerate nod to the Weasley Matriarch.  
  
“Narcissa requested for him specifically. It’s given him a great boost at work, he might even be up for promotion once he’s finished.” Harry smiled at how proud Mrs Weasley was of her oldest son, “You know how these Goblins are, it’s difficult for a Witch or Wizard to make their way up in the ranks unless they have proven their worth.”  
  
“That’s enough chit-chatting. Harry eat up, and then you can get yourself up to bed. I’m sure you’ve had a busy evening.” Mrs Weasley leaned over the table to collect the empty tea cups that Sirius and Mrs Malfoy had placed to one side. She didn't even use magic to wash them, Harry supposed that she just needed something to do with her hands.  
  
“Come on now Molly, take a seat, give yourself a few moments to relax.” Sirius stood up and took the crockery from her, he nudged a chair out with his toe and urged her to sit down. She sat, reluctantly, and began to wring her hands together under the table.  
  
“I’m sure Arthur will be home in due time Molly, you’ll receive word soon.” Mrs Malfoy soothed, well aware of the basis of her anxiety.  
  
“Mr Weasley doesn’t come here?” Harry asked.  
  
“We’re too worried that he might be tracked from the Ministry and followed here. Everyone knows that the Weasleys are close to you Harry.” Sirius said, from where he was standing in front of the kitchen sink. Harry nodded and continued to spoon the soup into his mouth so that he wouldn’t have to comment on it any further. He hated to be reminded that his best friends' family were in danger simply through their association with him.  
  
“I’m going to head up.” Harry said a few minutes later as he mopped up the last of his soup with a homemade crusty roll.  
  
He left the room to a chorus of ‘Goodnight Harry' and began to make his way upstairs. Even with the dim lighting Harry could tell that the house had undergone some major renovations. He could only assume that some of the long term guests had a hand in that, Sirius, while certainly personally stylish and more than capable of dressing himself properly, was not an interior decorator. The old House-Elf heads and their plaques had finally been successfully removed and the peeling wallpaper had been replaced with freshly painted walls, Harry felt like he was almost walking through a different house entirely. Once they were finished with the whole place he could really see it looking rather welcoming.  
  
He was quiet as he opened the door to his room and stepped into the darkness. He daren’t create a Lumos for fear of waking the sleeping figure under the lump of covers, so he toed off his trainers and made his way across the room slowly. He was glad that Draco was rather neat, it meant that he didn’t have to worry about tripping over anything. He quickly got undressed, throwing his clothes to one side and leaving himself in only his boxer briefs. He didn't want to risk rooting around in his trunk (which Dumbledore had sent ahead of their arrival) so he decided to forgo pyjamas, the room was cool but once he was under the covers he'd be plenty warm enough. He put his wand down on the bedside table and slid under the covers as carefully as possible.  
  
“‘Arry?” Came the sleepy mumble from the other side of the bed. Damn.  
  
“Hey, sorry I woke you up.” Harry shifted onto his side and reached out for his Soulmate.  
  
“You’re early.” Draco shuffled closer, he found Harry’s hand in the darkness and slid their fingers together. Harry sighed at Draco’s touch and he relaxed even further into the soft mattress.  
  
“I know, go back to sleep Darling.” Harry pressed a kiss to Draco’s knuckles. He closed his eyes as he did so, revelling in the touch that he had longed for ever since they had said goodbye to each other on Platform nine and three quarters.  
  
“Hmm, kay.” Harry smiled at his sleepy responses.  
  
“Speak to you in the morning.” Harry whispered.  
  
“Mmhmm.”  Harry smiled fondly at the way Draco’s eyes drifted closed once again. He smoothed down Draco's hair with a gentle stroke of his palm, it was spiked up on one side where his head had been pressed into the pillow and it made him look truly adorable. Harry really fucking missed him. He thought he had been getting on alright, they’d been writing to each other daily, and using their two-way mirrors whenever the Dursleys were out of the house. But seeing him over a mirror, and writing to him, was nowhere near the same thing as actually getting to touch him, and hold him, Merlin even just to smell him was wonderful.  
  
“Go to sleep, Potter.” Draco murmured. Harry grinned and closed his eyes, allowing the very presence of his sorely missed Soulmate to wash over him and drag him down into sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Angst really isn't a speciality of mine so this fic has been a bit of a personal mountain for me. When it gets to that point in the fic I hope I've been able to pull it off :)
> 
> Thanks for reading you wonderful people.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Spoiler Alert*  
> All porn no plot in this chapter

Harry woke up slowly. Which was unusual for him. He was usually forced awake by the sound of Dudley thundering up and down the stairs, or Aunt Petunia clanging pans in the kitchen, or the sound of Number 6 mowing their lawn and trimming their hedges. Not that he missed any of those things. He rather liked the slow, gradual, awakening. The slight peek of overcast sunlight through the gaps in the curtains. The feel of an arm around his waist. And Draco, stirring awake behind him. This was something he could quite gladly get used to.  
  
Harry looked around his room…their room, he supposed. It had been too dark to really notice anything the night before, but in the dim light of the morning he could see little hints of Draco everywhere he looked. His own trunk was sitting at the bottom of the bed, with Draco's sitting next to it. There was a Nimbus 2001 propped next to the window with an open broom care kit discarded on the desk next to it. As though Draco had started to tend to his broom but had given up halfway through (it wasn’t a task he enjoyed, he thought it to be unnecessarily tedious). The wardrobe door was open a few inches, giving Harry a glimpse of a clean and pressed Slytherin robe hanging amongst a collection of expensive shirts and trousers, and there was a pile of Hogwarts textbooks on the desk, Arithmancy and Ancient Runes, subjects which Harry hadn't even taken.  
  
Harry smiled fondly at the way Draco had made himself so at home. He knew this room was probably small compared to Draco's childhood room at the Manor, and he was sure that there really wasn’t any comparison to the hand painted sky mural that used to be on his ceiling, or the marble fireplace that had been hand carved with hundreds of decorative dragons and snakes. But Harry was incredibly happy that Draco had felt comfortable enough here to make himself at home. The hand resting on his stomach flexed, it was the first sign that Draco was waking up behind him. His arm tightened around Harry’s waist, almost as if he was trying to remember who was next to him and why they were there.  
  
“Thought I was dreaming.” Draco murmured sleepily. Harry looked over his shoulder to see a small content smile playing around the corners of Draco’s mouth. His eyes were still closed, once he was awake he didn't need to see Harry to know it was him in the bed.  
  
“No.” Harry whispered back. He shuffled around until he was facing Draco, careful not to completely dislodge the arm that had been thrown carelessly around his waist, he rather enjoyed the feel of it, “Missed you.” Harry leaned forward to nudge the tip of his nose against Draco’s.  
  
“We talked all the time.” Draco reminded him, but it didn't stop the fondness from leaking down their connection and into Harry's mind.  
  
“I know, but it wasn’t the same.” Harry raised a hand and smoothed down the strands of blonde hair which were defying gravity once again and doing a very good job at emulating Harry’s own ridiculous nest of hair in the process.  
  
“I know.” Draco finally opened his eyes and looked directly into Harry’s, “I missed you too.”  
  
“How are you doing?” Harry asked, as he did every time they had talked over the past month. Every single day Harry asked how he was, and every day the reply remained the same-  
  
“I’m fine.” Harry reached out and tugged at a gravity defying lock of smooth hair, it was longer than Harry last remembered it. Draco looked nice with longer hair.   
  
“Liar.” Draco didn’t grant him an answer, he just shrugged and turned his gaze to the window opposite the bed, “Hey…” Draco looked at him again and Harry smiled. He leaned in slowly and with sure and practised movements he pressed his lips to Draco’s.  Harry sighed into the kiss. It had been too long. His magic calmed within him, subsiding from the level of high alert that Harry hadn't even noticed he had been on. He settled into the deep and ingrained feeling of rightness that only came when he had Draco in his arms. A feeling that he hadn’t realised was missing over the last month. Draco’s emotions, which had faded to a low and inconsequential buzz during their time apart, exploded out from the deep recesses of his mind and filled him with affection and desire.  
  
Harry slid one hand around the back of Draco’s neck, while his other arm wrapped firmly around his slim waist. With one solid tug from Harry and an answering push from Draco, the blonde was sprawled happily over Harry’s chest. He felt Draco’s satisfaction reverberate through his mind, he felt the heat of desire echoing his own, and a deep longing that could only come from being separated for so long. His thumb skimmed the curve of Draco's jaw and Harry teased Draco's lips apart to press his tongue into his mouth as he had done so many times before. Draco pulled away suddenly with a wrinkled nose and Harry felt a sharp spike of distaste in the back of his mind. He was about to ask what was wrong but Draco answered before he could.  
  
“Morning breath.” Harry laughed in response, but loosened his grip on the blonde so he could lean over to grab Harry’s wand, which responded to him as easily as his own, and mutter a few words which left their mouths feeling tingly and somewhat clean. Like with cleaning charms, there really was no proper comparison when it came to refresher charms versus the real thing, and if you were to use them for days at a time the magic left a weird copper taste in your mouth. But it would do for now. Draco threw Harry’s wand back down and leaned in to resume their earlier position.  He spread his hands across Harry’s chest, delighting in the firm flesh under his palms. During their time apart Harry had taken to working out in his spare time, going for runs around the neighbourhood, doing pull ups in the children's play area in the park, and push ups in the back garden of the Dursleys house. Doing as much as he could to be out of the house and away from his horrendous relatives. At this moment in time all Draco cared about was the fact that his already fit Soulmate just got even fitter, and he was completely on board with exploring his new found stamina and strength.  
  
Harry wound his arms around Draco’s waist, holding the blonde tightly against his bare chest as their mouths crashed together once again. Fuck, it was glorious. How had he forgotten about the flick of Draco's tongue, and the commanding swivel of his slender hips. They melted into each other's embrace as their emotions collided in a tsunami of want and need. It only served to egg each other on, and was helped by the grasp of their hands and the clash of their mouths, bringing them closer to a crescendo with every second of prolonged contact. He'd missed this. He'd missed this so much. He'd missed the bite of fingernails into his shoulders, the squeeze of thighs across his hips, the panting breath fluttering across his cheek. Merlin, Draco was everything.  He tried to roll over, attempting to pull Draco down with him so that he could blanket Draco's body with his own. But Draco refused to budge. He uttered a " _ Nuh-uh _ ." And forced Harry back down into the pillows behind him. He felt the smirk against his mouth at the same time as Draco nudged Harry's thighs apart and settled himself between them. Nestling his own hardness against the jut of Harry's. Which was barely concealed beneath the tight boxer briefs.  
  
Fu-uck.  
  
"Do you want-?" Draco started to speak, pulling away just enough for his lips to brush softly against Harry's.  
  
"Yes." Harry answered.  
  
"You don't even know what I was about to ask." Draco laughed against his mouth and Harry was reminded how much he loved that laugh.  
  
"I don't care. Yes. Anything. Everything." Harry answered, and he slid a hand around the back of Draco's neck to pull him back into the kiss that he had so rudely broken off.  
  
Harry made a noise of agreement when Draco began to unbutton his pyjama shirt. When Draco wore proper pyjamas, they were the type that buttoned in the front, so it took no effort at all to help Draco push the silky material off his shoulders and throw it to the floor without disconnecting the seal of their mouths. It left them both in only one layer of bottoms, which Draco was quick to kick himself out of, pushing the long pyjama trousers down his legs with his feet and shoving them to the bottom of the bed so they wouldn't get in the way.  Only then did Harry pull himself away from that delightful mouth and the cherry red flush of Draco's lips. Draco sat up on his knees, towering completely naked over Harry without an ounce of shame or self doubt. Why would he doubt the way he looked when Harry was staring at him with wide green eyes? He looked at him, starting from the blonde hair on the top of his head down to the bobbing weight of his cock between his legs, and he felt Harry's desire cut through his mind like a tornado. Draco's movements were sensual when he peeled Harry's underwear off without breaking eye contact. Draco only dropped his gaze once Harry was laid bare underneath him, desperate to look at him in the same way. He wasn't disappointed.   
  
Unlike last summer, Harry hadn't been able to gain that glorious tan (due to the lack of proper sunlight ever since the Dementors left Azkaban). But his abs were heading towards hard and defined, and his hips cut a wonderfully proportioned V that pointed directly towards the very thing that had Draco's mouth practically salivating with want. Harry's cock was very much the same as it had always been. Thick, hard, and tremendously beautiful. Draco took it in his hand and smirked at the unconscious hiss of pleasure that escaped Harry's mouth. It had been too long for either of them.  
  
"Good?" Draco asked, as he pumped his hand gently up and down. Just to tease.  
  
"Yeah." Harry responded. Draco reached across for Harry's wand again and he nudged Harry's knees further apart.  
  
"Yeah?" Draco asked, as he murmured the spell that would lube and stretch him. Harry felt the magic leave their shared core, it was still a fairly new feeling to both of them but it no longer made Harry jump in surprise.  
  
"Oh yeah." Harry repeated, his eyes fluttering closed as the spell left him feeling slick and empty. He preferred to top, but he wouldn't say no whenever Draco felt like he needed to switch it up a bit, and it seemed like Draco needed it more than Harry did right now. They rarely needed this much reassurance from each other. They were more than capable of reading each other's emotions on the odd occasion where something between them didn't quite go to plan. But Draco needed it, and Harry was more than happy to comply.  
  
Harry cupped the back of Draco's head and accepted the downright filthy snog that Draco bestowed upon him as his deft fingers worked him open. Fuck. Harry loved those hands, brilliant at everything they did, including this.  
  
"Good?" Draco asked. Harry responded by knocking his hands away and tugging on his hips, urging him closer. Close enough to start pressing inside. It had been a while for them both and Harry could feel the burn of the stretch, a low hiss escaped his throat as he was slowly filled.  
  
"I can stop." Draco offered, holding himself still with all the effort his shaking muscles could afford.  
  
"No, keep going." Harry whispered, "It's good. You're good." He cupped Draco's cheek once more and dragged him down into another toe-curling kiss that made him forget all about the intrusion. It  _ was  _ good, it was Draco, how could it be anything but mind-numbingly fantastic? Once the initial burn was over Harry could properly lose himself in Draco. Harry could feel every emotion that passed through his Lover's mind, and he could track each movement of Draco's long fingers across his body through nothing more than the trail of heat and magic that he left behind. Getting lost in Draco had always been a particular skill of his and Harry revelled in it.  
  
"I need to-"  
  
"Yesss." Harry hissed, and he was so far gone that he couldn't even be sure whether he said that in English or Parseltongue. But it didn't seem to matter, Draco's hips sped up and his stomach tensed in expectation. Harry felt his body responding as easily as it always did. His legs fell open wider and his undulating movements synchronised perfectly with the uptick in pace. He could just about hear himself panting and chanting the same thing over and over again.  
  
"Draco. Draco. Draco." Harry was murmuring into the damp skin of Draco's shoulder as he felt himself climbing towards the most mind blowing orgasm, "I love you, fuck, I love you so much."   
  
"I'm gonna-!" Draco cried out, as he clenched his eyes shut and gripped Harry's hips to anchor himself in that almost too tight heat and with one…two…three thrusts Draco was falling over the edge, and crying Harry's name out as he fell. Harry couldn't hold it back any longer, the picture of Draco's head thrown back in ecstasy, with his mouth falling open in a gasp and his eyes clenched shut, was burned onto Harry's retinas. He tipped his head back against the pillows and followed Draco over that cliff.  
  
"Christ, I missed you." Harry breathed out into the comfortable silence between them. Draco was sprawled out next to him, his chest was still heaving and his skin was still covered in a sheen of sweat. But that didn't stop him from answering Harry in his usual haughty tone, that was more in jest these days than it would have been in previous years.  
  
"Of course you did. I'm wonderful."  
  
"Of course you are, Darling." Harry patted him on the arm in semi-sarcastic agreement.


	4. Chapter 4

Harry would have been perfectly happy to sequester himself in his bedroom with Draco for his entire first day back at Grimmauld Place, he would have loved to put reality off for just a little while. But they both needed to shower, and they both needed breakfast. So rising from their sprawled places on the bed, and making their way out to the nearest bathroom was a necessary evil.  
  
They shared the shower. More out of convenience than anything else, and even though they didn't mean anything sexual to come from it Harry couldn't stop himself from pulling Draco into a deep kiss under the hot spray. Harry was drawn in by the image of Draco's hair slicked down by the heavy weight of water, and the rivulets that were streaming down his flushed skin. Harry wanted to trace their path with his mouth, he wanted to lick his way across Draco’s shoulders and down his chest, following the trail of water across his pale pink nipples and down to the tip of his half hard dick. If Harry wasn't still recovering from the best orgasm he'd had in a month he wouldn't have been able to tear himself away. But, alas, tear himself away he did.   
  
The real world interrupted their reunion in the form of Hermione. They were just finishing up getting dressed, with Harry attempting to pull on a pair of socks through the distraction of Draco messing with his hair in front of a mirror. He was forcing his hair back into some semblance of control and Harry was busy admiring the way it fell across his forehead and secretly hoping that he would give up on it, when there came a knock at the bedroom door.   
  
“Harry? Draco?” Hermione called through the closed door.   
  
“Come in Hermione.” The door swung open and Hermione stood on the other side, with one hand on the door handle and the other one covering her eyes.   
  
“Are you both decent?”  
  
“Honestly, Hermione. Do you think you would have been invited in if we were both naked?” Harry said with a laugh. Hermione removed the hand from her eyes and strode into the room. She made a beeline for the window and in one movement she pulled the curtains wide open. It actually didn’t do much to light the room, since there was still a thick layer of fog hanging over the city.   
  
“Ron you can come in. They’re both dressed.” She called out into the hallway, “Honestly, he shares a dorm, you’d have thought he’d be used to boys sleeping half naked.”  
  
“We were awake!” Harry defended.   
  
“And dressed!” Draco added. With one last glance in the mirror he deemed his hair adequate and he joined Harry on the bed.  
  
“It’s not the half naked part that bothers me,” Ron said as he finally stepped into view, “It’s the fully naked part. There’s just some things a mate doesn’t need to see from his best Mate or his best Mate's boyfriend.” He said to Hermione and then he finally turned to Harry with a massive grin, “Hiya Mate.”  
  
“Alright, Ron.” Harry grinned back. He might have missed Draco the most but Ron and Hermione were a close second.  
  
“That’s enough of that, these just arrived.” Hermione showed them the two thick parchment envelopes, one addressed to  _ Mr H Potter _ and the other  _ Mr D Malfoy _ in green calligraphy writing. Ron waved his own in the air by way of explanation and Hermione pulled hers out of her pocket, the envelope was already open and slightly crumpled in her grip.  
  
“OWL results?” Harry asked, “Dumbledore said they’d be arriving today.”  
  
“Harry!” Draco punched him in the arm and glared at him across the bed, “You knew our results were arriving today and you didn’t tell me?!”   
  
“I was a little too… preoccupied, if you’ll remember.” Harry laughed as he pretended to fend off the attack.  
  
Draco didn’t dignify it with an answer, in his opinion receiving their OWL results was absolutely paramount to the outcome of their future and forgetting to mention it was definitely a relationship faux pas. He would give Harry the silent treatment for a couple of hours as penance, or he would attempt to. He probably wouldn’t succeed.  
  
Harry took the envelope addressed to -  
  
_ Mr H Potter  
_ _ Third Floor Bedroom  
_ _ 12 Grimmauld Place  
_ _ London  
  
_ And stared at it. It took him a second to realise that the nervousness he felt wasn’t just his own. Draco was also staring at his envelope and was projecting his nerves through to Harry without even realising it. He turned it over in his hands and broke the seal open so slowly that if he were in a film Harry would have been convinced that he was being shown in slow motion.   
  
“How did you do Hermione?” Harry asked, before he even attempted to open his own. If Hermione had glowing results then Harry felt like he could relax slightly, if she had failed then Harry was positive that he would have done too. If Hermione couldn’t even pass a subject then Harry had no chance. But she blushed, and ducked her head sheepishly, almost ashamed at how proud she was of herself.  
  
“Nine Outstandings, and an Exceeds in Defence. Isn’t that right Hermione.” Ron nudged her with his elbow, unwilling to let her sell herself short or make light of her achievements. She’d worked extremely hard for her grades and she deserved every O that had been awarded to her.  
  
“Fucking hell, Hermione. Well done!” Harry stood up from the edge of his bed and pulled her into a tight hug.  
  
“Draco?” Harry asked, as a spike of surprise followed by overwhelming satisfaction overtook Draco’s nerves, “What did you get?” The satisfaction faded into a sort of stunned emotionless silence. Draco couldn’t speak, he just handed the parchment over to Harry so that he could read it, with Hermione and Ron looking intently over his shoulder.  
  
“Eight Outstandings,” Ron counted quickly, “Two Exceeds. Bloody hell, you must be second in the year for sure.”   
  
“Apparently so.” Draco said, still stunned. He hadn’t expected so much. He never expected to fail anything, but he certainly didn’t expect eight O’s. Working with Harry and the DA had definitely bolstered his Defence grade from an A to an E, he never would have been as adept at some of the counter curses had the DA not spent two sessions going over them, and Arithmancy was always his weak spot, but working with Hermione had definitely reflected in that grade.  
  
“Well done.” Harry stepped closer to him and wrapped his arms around Draco’s shoulders, pressing a lingering kiss to his temple as he did so, “Proud of you, Darling.” He didn’t really need to say it, Draco could feel it as strongly as his own emotions, but he appreciated it anyway.  
  
“What about you Harry?” Hermione asked, picking the unopened envelope from the bed and passing it back to him.  All of a sudden he wished he had opened it at the same time as everyone else, when they were all distracted by their own results, because now everyone was staring at him. Waiting. Harry took a deep  breath and slid his nail under the wax seal, it opened with a pop. He slid out the various bits of parchment and looked down at the first one. He ignored the explanation of the grades and the signature at the bottom from the Examination Authority and focused on the concise list in the centre of the page:  
  
_ Harry James Potter has achieved;  
_ _ Astronomy A  
_ _ Care of Magical Creatures E  
_ _ Charms E  
_ _ Defence Against the Dark Arts O  
_ _ Divination P  
_ _ Herbology E  
_ _ History of Magic D  
_ _ Potions E  
_ _ Transfiguration E  
  
_ He had passed. Not everything. But he wasn’t really expecting to have passed Divination, and History of Magic was a given, considering he had passed out half way through. But he had passed everything else, with really good marks too.   
  
“I got an O in Defence.” He chose to say, but all he could really focus on was that Exceeds Expectations in Potions. He had worked his arse off for the Potions OWL, and even working with Draco had only gained him an E. Although he was sure that if Draco hadn’t been helping him he probably would only have managed an A.  
  
“That’s really good, Harry,” Draco said from next to him, looking over his shoulder and reading down the list over his shoulder, “Don’t be disappointed.”  
  
“Potions though.” Harry muttered, his potential career as an Auror going down the drain as he hadn’t received the grade he needed to continue on with NEWT level Potions. He had other things to fall back on but he hadn’t felt ready to eliminate any of them just yet.  
  
“I know,” Draco wrapped an arm around him and squeezed his waist in comfort, “But you’ve done wonderfully.” Draco kissed him on the cheek and took the parchment from his hands to pass to Ron and Hermione who were practically bouncing on the balls of their feet waiting for him to read it out.  
  
“Brilliant, Harry!” Ron exclaimed, he reached over and clapped him on the shoulder, “Everyone expected you to get an O in Defence, can’t say that’s much of a surprise. The rest of your marks are similar to mine, you did better in Potions though. Bloody hell, and History of Magic, and you didn’t even finish the exam!” Ron laughed and shook his head at his own incompetence in the subject.  
  
“Well done.” Hermione smiled at him from Ron's side.  
  
Harry looked down at the rest of the parchments in his hand. The usual, Hogwarts letter, book and equipment list, and one more that Harry definitely wasn’t expecting. He scanned the short note quickly, and then re-read it again slowly, just in case he had read it wrong the first time. Then without a word to anyone he picked up the envelope that he had discarded on top of the bed sheets and tipped it up. The heavy silver badge fell neatly into his palm, he didn’t know how he hadn’t noticed it in there before. Draco was the first to look at him. His shock must have reverberated down their mental bond as clear as day.  
  
“Harry?” Draco asked. From where he stood he couldn’t see what Harry was holding in his hand, his fingers were curled around the object slightly, hiding it almost completely from view. Harry stared at the shield with its shiny C emblazoned on the front of it. He was the new Gryffindor Quidditch Captain.  
  
“Mate? What’s th-” Harry twisted his hand, until he was showing his friends the shiny Captain badge held neatly in the palm of his hand, “Bloody Hell!” Ron exclaimed, darting forward and grabbing Harry’s wrist so he could get a closer look at it, “Quidditch Captain?”   
  
“Y-Yeah.” Harry stammered, still unsure as to whether this was actually happening or not. And then Ron was clapping him on the shoulder again with the widest grin Harry had ever seen, Hermione was chattering about his school privileges and Draco was staring at him with those knowing grey eyes and that smug look of satisfaction on his face that Harry didn’t even need their bond to interpret.  
  
“You’re clearly the best choice.” Draco said, “Slytherin will have to work hard this year.”  
  
“Ha, keep dreaming Malfoy. You’ve no chance, you’ll actually have to out fly Harry for that to happen.” Ron teased.  
  
“Stranger things have been known to happen.” Draco commented lightly, but still smiled at Harry’s achievement.  
  
“I didn’t think...I mean, Katie was on the team before me.”  
  
“Katie was a reserve in her first year, she was only officially on the team in her second year. You missed the official try outs but you’ve both been on the team the same length of time.” Hermione pointed out, “Besides, two years under one Captain is better than having a new Captain every year, if Katie had got it this year, you would have got it next year anyway.”  
  
“Yeah mate, you’ll have two years to build the best team. Our team’s been on the rocks ever since Quidditch got cancelled in fourth year. We lost a whole year of recruitment because of that stupid tournament.” Ron said, “You’ll be a great Captain.” Ron grinned and Hermione nodded along, out of support more than anything since she had no real interest in the game past watching the Gryffindor matches. Harry looked to Draco again. The blonde just smiled proudly and gave him a small almost imperceivable nod of support.   
  
The four of them couldn’t escape the barrage of questions that came their way the moment they descended the stairs and entered the kitchen.   
  
“How did you do? Are you happy with your results? Are you going to be able to take all the subjects you want to take?” Came from Mrs Weasley who rushed forward to meet them in the doorway.  
  
“So...?” Sirius said, rising to his feet in anticipation.  
  
“Draco?” Narcissa added, loading the single word with all the necessary meaning and intent.  Harry didn’t think all of the questions would have been so bad had they been said one at a time, as it was, they all came at the same time, overlapping each other in a cacophony of noise. The volume of Mrs Weasley's questions had increased so much as they went on that Harry had to look behind them to make sure that the door was properly shut. They didn’t want to wake up the portrait in the hall.  
  
“Let them talk.” Remus said to the rest of the adults in the room. He was standing back from everyone else, leaning against the sink with his arms crossed and harbouring an amused smile.   
  
Ron had to nudge Hermione to get her to announce her results, she was blushing so deeply and was staring at the floor so intently that it seemed impossible to get a straight answer out of her. Harry could tell that she was definitely proud of herself, but she was finding it difficult to find the balance between being proud of herself and being full of herself. Draco had no such issue, he was quick to take a seat next to his Mother and hand his results over while Hermione stammered a response to Mrs Weasley’s questions. Up until this year his Mother’s voice had been stifled by his Fathers, had his Father been there he would have gotten nothing more than a scoff and a reprimand at coming in second. Second to a Muggleborn no less. His mother always used to praise him in private, with a kiss to his forehead and a softly spoken,  _ ‘Well done, Dragon _ ’. This year she read through the letter with a proud smile.  
  
“Well done, Draco.” She said to him quietly, keeping the moment between the two of them as everyone else’s eyes were still on the Gryffindor trio, “Second to Miss Granger I am sure. That’s a great achievement.” She leaned over him and kissed him on the forehead, it made him feel like a small child again, but he couldn’t find it within himself to care. It was the first time his achievements had been praised out loud and he couldn’t help the grin that spread across his face.  Harry smiled fondly at Draco and his Mother, and watched as Mrs Weasley pulled Ron into a bone crushing hug. He was probably almost a foot taller than her, but she dragged his face down to her height and planted a kiss on both of his reddened cheeks. She was proclaiming that her children were all growing up, and was wiping a tear from the corner of her eye when Sirius approached Harry.  
  
“Good news?” Sirius asked and Remus sidled around the commotion to stand at Harry’s other side.  
  
“Yeah,” He smiled at his Godfather and produced his own results, “I got an O in Defence, and mostly Es in everything else. Failed Divination though, and History of Magic.”  
  
“Well done Kiddo.” Sirius pulled him into a one armed hug, and thudded him on the shoulder.  
  
“Good job Harry.” Remus commented with a wry smile.  
  
“Thanks Remus, did you know my Patronus got me extra marks?”  
  
“And a fine Patronus it is too.” Sirius laughed.  
  
“Prongs always did cut a fine figure. We’re really proud of you Harry. You deserve every mark, you worked hard last year.” Remus took his turn to pull Harry into a hug too and Harry could almost feel the tears coming to his eyes. He couldn’t share this moment with his parents, but he was glad he could share it with his Godparents.  
  
“I er, got something else too.” Harry stuffed his hand into his hoodie pocket and pulled out the Captain badge.  
  
“Captain!” Sirius exclaimed, “My Godson is a Quidditch Captain! I couldn’t be prouder!” Sirius called out over the rest of the commotion, he looked like he was on the edge of jumping around the room in joy. Harry was glad he managed to rein himself in.  
  
“You always did take after your Father.” Remus smiled at him and squeezed his shoulder, “You were a fantastic flyer in your third year, I can only imagine you’ve improved since then.”  
  
“Thanks Remus.” Harry muttered, blushing at Sirius’s wide, ridiculous, grin that was aimed solely at the shiny silver badge in his hand.  
  
“It looks like we can’t put off a trip to Diagon Alley any longer.” Mrs Weasley said as she took the book list from Ron and read through it a couple of times, “Ginny's letter came this morning too. We’ll have to wait for Arthur’s day off so we have enough people to be your guard, Harry.” Harry wrinkled his nose up at that, but he didn’t say anything against it. He took a seat next to Draco and reached for the plate of sausages in the middle of the table, he doled a couple out to himself and a couple onto Draco’s plate like it was second nature. The movement got him a fond smile and a flash of pleasure through their bond.


	5. Chapter 5

Harry wished he could enjoy walking down Diagon Alley as much as he did the very first time he had stepped foot onto the cobbled street, but so much had changed in five years. The usual joyful hustle and bustle of the Alley was replaced by huddled groups casting suspicious glances around them. Hogwarts students were being herded in and out of shops by wary parents who weren’t allowing them to linger in one place for too long. Compared to every other time Harry had been to Diagon, the Alley was like a ghost town. He looked sadly at the blown out ice cream shop, he had always liked Fortescue, the man had given him free ice creams and let him work on his homework in the café the summer before his third year, and Ollivander's a few doors down was nothing more than a burned husk, all the wands destroyed and the shopkeeper missing presumed dead. Draco stepped up to his side and slid his fingers between Harrys.  
  
“Come on, we shouldn’t stop anywhere for too long.” Draco murmured to him.  
  
“It’s just… Unfair. He was a good man, he didn’t deserve…” Harry gestured to the destroyed shop.  
  
“I know, no one deserves any of this.” Draco agreed, “Come on.” He tugged on Harry’s hand until they were caught up with the rest of their group. There had been a brief discussion about who was going where, and they decided that they would all visit the Twins new joke shop first, just to check in, and then the four sixth year students would visit Madam Malkins with Hagrid while Mr and Mrs Weasley and Ginny visited Flourish and Blotts to collect the books that everyone would need.  
  
Stepping into Weasleys Wizard Wheezes was like a breath of fresh air. It was almost like they’d left the droll and depressing Alley behind them and stepped into another world entirely. The shop was full of bright colours. Reds, yellows, greens and blues practically yelled at them from each and every surface of the room. And then there were the posters that lined the walls which were actually literally yelling at them, advertising the latest products. Between the posters and the shelves full of products, the walls were painted the most lurid orange with hints of purple splashed here and there for effect, it looked as though Fred and George had given a collection of paint cans to someone who was colour blind and let them have their way. It was an odd combination, but it worked, somehow. Harry looked above his head and laughed at the mild version of their Wildfire Whizzbangs which were popping and crackling close to the ceiling, showering the crowded shop with a harmless array of colourful sparks. He had to duck very slightly when a mini Ford Anglia soared close to his head, only to make a U turn in mid-air and start off towards the opposite end of the shop. Harry couldn’t believe the amount of knick-knacks and gadgets that were whizzing through the air. It certainly made for a great deal of entertainment, and free advertisement too since the shop was full of people laughing and gaping up at the displays. Harry grinned at a passing group of Hogwarts students who were stocking up for the year ahead, their arms full of skiving snackboxes, dungbombs and canary creams. He had never been happier that he had given them his Triwizard winnings, they had put every Knut of it to good use.  
  
“Eclectic isn’t it?” Draco asked, as he stepped up to Harry’s side and took his hand. Harry would have thought he was insulting the twins if it weren’t for the impressed smirk curling up one corner of his mouth, and the lingering humour coming through their connection in the back of his mind.  
  
"I think it's brilliant." Harry admitted, and he laughed at the little talking Umbridge figure that was walking a tightrope across the length of the shop.  
  
"Thanks Harry!" The sudden appearance of Fred and George at either side of them made them both jump.  
  
"Couldn't have done it without you of course." George said.  
  
"Come this way, we think you'll like the back section the most." George wrapped an arm around Harry's shoulders, and Fred threw an arm around Draco’s, much to the blondes dismay at being manhandled.  
  
“We started these out as just a little project,” Fred was saying, as he skirted around a group of girls giggling at the display of love potions, which Draco scoffed at.  
  
“But we’ve already got hundreds of orders from the Ministry of Magic alone.” George continued, leading them to a slightly quieter and more serious part of the shop. The walls were still orange of course, but there seemed to be a repelling charm keeping out the flying objects and the younger clientele. Harry watched as the flying car rebounded off an invisible wall which they had just passed through.  
  
“This is our defence line.” George gestured to the back room, Harry understood why most of the joke items had been removed from this part of the shop, even for Fred and George it would have been in bad taste to turn these items into a joke.  
  
“Shield cloaks, hats and gloves.” Fred said, pointing to the products, “They’re fitted with shield charms, they’ll repel most hexes and jinxes.”  
  
“Decoy Detonators.” George threw a small box to Harry, who caught it easily, “Let one of them go and they’ll cause a distraction, giving you a chance to escape.”  
  
“Peruvian darkness powder.” Fred tossed a small crystal like rock to Draco, who caught it in both hands, “We have to import that from Peru, but it’s worth it. Smash that on the ground and the whole room will be pitch black, you can’t even use spells to see through it. Bugger to transport, we dropped a box of that stuff and we had to close the shop for two days.” Harry laughed.  
  
“Take anything you want Harry.”  
  
“No, I can’t do that. Let me pay.”  


“You’re our investor. Consider everything already paid for.”   
  
“Cheers guys.” Harry pocketed a couple boxes of Decoy Detonators and a few nuggets of Peruvian Darkness Powder.  
  
“Mr Weasley!” Came a cry from a particularly harried looking employee who looked like she was being overrun by questions and requests from teenagers and adults alike.  
  
“Gotta run, Harry, Draco.”   
  
“See you later guys.” Harry waved them away as Draco stepped forward to inspect the shield cloak.   
  
“They’re really rather intelligent.” Draco commented, with no small amount of awe at what the two had managed to accomplish in less than a year.   
  
“Brilliant, aren’t they? Let’s go find the others.” Harry tugged him back into the throng of the busy shop and tried to spot Ron over the hustle and bustle, he usually didn’t have a problem with that, Ron was easily a head taller than most other people but his hair must clash with the walls because Harry was failing to spot him. His eyes were panning over the crowd when he caught sight of something through the windows. Caught sight of someone. He nudged Draco in the side.  
  
“Snape.” He said, and pointed to the Professor who was striding down the Alley, crossing in front of the shop and disappearing out of sight.  
  
“What’s he up to?” Draco murmured, sharing a glance with Harry. Harry cocked his head to one side, curiosity spiking through them both, Draco raised an eyebrow as if to say, ‘really?’. Draco sighed and nodded in agreement. Harry caught his hand and dragged him over to one side where no one would walk into them, he pulled the invisibility cloak out of his pocket and threw it over them both. After that it was a matter of navigating the busy shop and squeezing out of a gap in the door.   
  
They followed Snape down the Alley, careful to walk in the shadows. They might be under an invisibility cloak but Harry didn’t want to take the chance that their feet might be seen. It wasn’t like he was eleven years old anymore. They followed him right to the entrance of Knockturn Alley. Harry hesitated. It was Draco who took his hand in support and silently urged him on. They followed Snape almost the entire way down Knockturn Alley, quickening their steps so that they didn’t lose him at every twist and turn down the narrow street. It was significantly quieter than the last time he had the displeasure of visiting, Harry supposed that these days it wouldn’t be good for anyone to be spotted down Knockturn Alley, given it’s reputation for dark magic and artefacts. Just setting foot on the darkened street would be cause for accusation in the right circles.  
  
“Apothecary.” Draco whispered as Snape disappeared into the shop. Harry tried to follow but Draco’s hand was a clamp on his upper arm, “Don’t. There’s wards. And they’ll hear us enter. We should go back, we’ve been gone too long.”  
  
“He’s up to something.” Harry murmured back, but he allowed Draco to pull him away. They rushed back up the darkened Alley to get back to the joke shop before anyone noticed they were missing.  
  
“I know.” Draco agreed, “But there’s nothing we can do about it now. We’ll just have to wait and see if something comes of it.”  
  
Harry pulled open the shop door and they smuggled themselves inside, he waited for a gaggle of girls to pass them before he pulled off the invisibility cloak and tried to act like they had been there all along.  
  
“Harry!” Hermione called from next to the tills, “There you are…Where have you been?”  
  
“The twins were showing us the back room.” Harry half lied. He would tell her and Ron exactly where they had been once they weren’t being watched over by multiple Order members. He didn’t think any of them would be particularly pleased with him if they found out he had slipped through their guard.   
  
X  
  
“I’m telling you,” Harry said to Ron and Hermione a little later on, when they were all back in Grimmauld Place safe and sound, “Snape is definitely up to something.” He had told them both about his and Draco’s little outing the moment they had made it back to his room.  
  
“Harry, you know I love you, but you always think someone’s up to something.” Hermione said, from her perch on the edge of his bed. Harry, Ron and Hermione were sitting on Harry's bed, while Draco was sitting in the desk chair opposite.  
  
“It is kind of your thing mate.” Ron shrugged, “Not that I’m disagreeing with you though.” He said quickly, “Snape’s always been a sneaky bastard.”   
  
“Even the regulars of Knockturn are avoiding it because nobody wants to be seen down there. If anyone were to see Snape, a Hogwarts Professor, then he’s likely to get himself into big trouble.” Draco told them.  
  
“I agree, it’s rather… Shady. But you can’t go around accusing people of things. It’s never done you any good in the past and it won’t do you any good now.” Hermione defended once again.  
  
“So you’re saying…”   
  
“I’m saying,” Hermione said with a long suffering sigh, “That you can’t accuse people...Without any evidence. But I’m also saying don’t specifically go out of your way to find evidence, the stakes this year are higher than ever and you rushing into danger isn’t going to help anyone.”  Draco had to hide his smile at that, he’d only been dealing with Harry and his quirks since last November, not even a year yet. He had to give props to Hermione, who had been dealing with his pig-headedness since First year. He could see how she fit into the group, she was the voice of reason behind all of their actions, Harry might feel the need to rush into danger at a moment's notice but Hermione was the reason he stopped to think before doing it. She was down to earth, logical, and smart. Draco was grateful for her presence in Harry's life, he desperately needed someone else to be his voice of reason sometimes.  
  
“That’s our Hermione!” Ron whooped. Draco laughed as she was buried under the two boys.  
  
“Get off. Off. Off. Off.” She beat at them with her hands, and somehow managed to squeeze herself out from under their heavy bodies, she swept invisible dust off her clothes and smoothed down her top, “Honestly, degenerates. Both of you. The only one with any class around here is Draco, and God only knows what he sees in you Harry.” She smoothed down her hair, it didn’t do much to prevent its usual bushyness but at least it was out of her eyes.  
  
“Thank you Hermione.” Draco said, “I was brought up with extensive etiquette training.”  
  
“You’re a posh Bastard you mean?” Ron asked from where he was sprawled against one of the posters at the foot of the bed. Harry kicked him half-heartedly from across the bed at the playful insult, he was leaning against the opposite post, sitting propped up with all of the pillows stuffed behind him.  
  
“I’m posh, but I’m not a Bastard by any means.” Draco turned his nose up in the air, but Harry could feel the good natured intention behind his actions and the humour that danced it’s way down their connection.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Spoiler Alert*  
> Scenes of a sexual nature in the first half of the chapter

“Happy Birthday, Harry.” Draco whispered into his ear. He had plastered his chest against Harry’s back and was leaning over his shoulder so he could press gentle kisses to the soft skin behind his ear.  
  
“Hmm.” Harry smiled, but made no attempt to move.  
  
“Wakey wakey.” Draco slid an arm around Harry’s hips and began to toy with the drawstring to his pyjama pants.  
  
“Hmm?” Harry vocalised again with no lack of interest in what Draco was doing, but he still didn’t open his eyes.  
  
“If you don’t get up, you won’t get your present.” Draco teased.  
  
“Present?” Harry’s voice was gruff from sleep, and the eye that he cracked open had a little bit of sleep in the corner of it. But Draco didn’t care. Harry would always be attractive to him, even half asleep, pre-shower and pre-toothpaste.  
  
“Lots of presents.” Draco promised. He began to make his way down Harry’s neck.  
  
“Do any of those involve not leaving this bed?” Harry asked.  
  
“One or two.” Draco smirked into the skin of Harry’s shoulder. Harry flipped himself onto his back and stretched out like a cat. Draco watched in fascination as his new found muscles shifted perfectly under his skin, he stretched his arms up above his head in one fluid movement before crossing them under his head and lying back onto the pillows.  
  
“This might just be the best birthday yet.” Harry grinned easily. Draco trailed his fingers in small spirals across Harry’s abs, he didn’t quite have a six pack just yet, but he was well on his way to it, and Draco really enjoyed the feel of his hardened body. He swept his fingers through the dark trail of hair that led from his navel down under the waistband of his joggers. The one thing that Draco could be absolutely sure of, Harry Potter was a _specimen_.  
  
“Taking in the view?” Harry asked, in a rare show of boastfulness that had Draco wondering just how much he had rubbed off on Harry. It made a change, Draco was so used to thinking about how much Harry had rubbed off on him that he hadn’t stopped to think about how Harry had changed. It was a good change, Harry deserved to feel good about himself.  
  
“And what a wonderful view it is.” Draco commented. He shifted down the bed until he was low enough to press a kiss to Harry’s hip and splay his hands across his lower abdomen.  
  
“Hmm, love you.”  
  
“You’re about to love me a whole lot more, I reckon.” Draco said. He teased his fingers under Harry’s waistband and began to inch the jogging pants down his slender hips.  
  
“Not possible.” Harry said with a lopsided grin, causing Draco to stifle a laugh against his pelvis.  
  
He finally managed to negotiate Harry out of the joggers, he tugged them down bit by bit, exposing the thatch of dark hair at the base of his dick, before said dick sprung free of its confines and slapped against Harry’s thigh. It was lewd, it was pornographic, and it was just so damn delicious. Draco didn’t pause, the moment Harry’s cock bobbed against his thigh Draco was taking it into his hand, pumping him in a firm grip that was just oh so good. Harry kicked his trousers the rest of the way off, flinging them off the side of his bed with his toes, leaving him spread out on top of the navy blue sheets looking good enough to eat. Which Draco was very willing to do.  
  
“Jesus fucking Christ.” Draco murmured. It was a phrase he had picked up from Hermione during the last couple months of the last term and he hadn’t been able to break the habit. But he couldn’t quite come up with another turn of phrase to describe exactly what Harry was doing to him right now. Harry just laughed, with his eyes closed and his head tipped back, exposing that gorgeous column of neck. Draco had to shut Harry’s emotions out of his mind, they had only tried this once with their connection wide open and it had ended in about thirty seconds. Their emotions had ended up bouncing off one another, magnifying their desire and escalating their sex to the point of carnality. It had been the shortest but most satisfying orgasm of his life. But it didn’t really let them enjoy each other or enjoy the experience, it was just a world of _yes_ and _more_ and pure unadulterated _want.  
  
_ Without another word, and while his hand still moved up and down Harry’s length, he bent over and swirled his tongue around the head of Harry’s cock. The hiss of pleasure, and the exclamation of _‘Fuuuck_!’ from Harry, made the wait well worth it. Draco didn’t hesitate from that point onwards. He moved up and down Harry’s cock with a confidence that only came with knowing someone else's body as well as you knew your own. One of his hands stayed on Harry’s dick, moving up and down in sync with the heat of his mouth, his other hand splayed low across Harry’s hips, anchoring him to the bed so that the little movements of his hips weren’t accidentally choking him. Draco loved doing this. It wasn’t so much the physical act, although that was nice, it was the trust that Harry had in him and the power he was giving Draco over his most important and sensitive body part. Draco knew that if he moved his tongue _juuuust_ _so_ , that Harry would groan out loud. Or if he twisted his wrist like - _that -_ Harry would buck up into his hands and mouth. It was complete trust, and it was the power that came from being trusted which had Draco absolutely out of his mind with desire. A year ago he never could have imagined being in a relationship with someone who trusted him so completely.   
  
Draco glided down Harry’s cock and with a deep breath in he pushed past the gag reflex to take Harry deeper down his throat. The sounds that escaped from Harry’s mouth couldn’t be constituted as a word, but his meaning was only too obvious, ‘ _holy fucking shit don’t stop_ ’. Harry’s hands were threading through his hair, not holding him down but cradling his head gently, urging him on but ultimately leaving the decision in his hands. He pulled off slowly, drawing it out with a deliberate drag of his lips and a steady pressure of his tongue. Draco took a few breaths when he finally popped his mouth off the end, replacing the heat of his mouth with the clutch of his fist. He looked up and met Harry’s eyes with his own. His pupils were blown wide, his eyes were so dark that they might as well have been black, his neck was craned so that he could look down and watch what Draco was doing. Draco did it again, sliding his mouth down Harry in a slow glide, pressing his tongue down the length of that thick vein as he went, before he took a deep breath and once again pushed past that gag reflex. He lifted both of his hands and held Harry’s hips down in an almost bruising grip. Then he opened their connection.  
  
Many things happened at once.  
  
Harry cried out beneath him, “Oh fucking hell, Draco!” Harry’s gorgeous slim hips tried to jerk up under his hands. Harry’s hands fisted in his hair, tugging at the strands in a way that should have been painful but was really just erotic. And Draco’s mind was absolutely assaulted by the desperate need that came solely from Harry.   
  
Draco pulled up off Harry’s cock and began to set a pace that was rapid but skilful. Allowing their connection to sing of all the love and desire that he felt, so he could bring Harry to orgasm in the most satisfying of ways. Harry held out for a minute longer. Trying to pull himself together under the onslaught of Draco’s mind and his mouth, but failing spectacularly. He fisted his hands in the sheets, trying his hardest not to tug on Draco’s hair again, and tipped his head back with his eyes clenched closed.  
  
“Draco-” Harry gasped, “I can't-” He panted, “I’m gonna-”  
  
Draco hummed around the dick in his mouth.  
  
“If you keep doing-”  
  
Draco rubbed the tip of his tongue under the ridge of his head.  
  
“Fuuuuck!” Harry came with his muscles coiled and a stutter of his hips against the hard anchor of Draco’s hands.   
  
He fell weightless against the sheets as Draco pulled away and collapsed against Harry’s thigh. They didn’t speak a word for a few moments. Harry’s hand found its way to Draco’s hair and he began to absentmindedly stroke through the soft strands, using his fingertips to massage his scalp until Draco was just as boneless under his touch.  
  
“Happy Birthday to me.” Harry murmured a minute later, once he had pulled himself together enough to speak actual words. Draco buried his face in Harry’s thigh and laughed.  
  
X  
  
When Harry and Draco finally made it downstairs, fully dressed and hair still wet from the shower (Harry’s hair, Draco’s was as wonderfully coiffed as it always was), they were greeted by a kitchen full of Weasleys, with a smattering of brunettes and blondes dispersed within the crowd, and a whole load of balloons. So many balloons that Harry had to kick them away from his feet so he could enter the room and close the door behind him.  
  
“Sirius’s idea.” Remus said, with a wave to the balloons and a fond eye roll. Harry and Draco had to almost wade through them to reach the table. They might have been Sirius’s idea but Harry had no doubt that they were supplied by Weasleys Wizard Wheezes. Some of them looked almost muggle in appearance, others were flashing through all the colours of the rainbow, there was a long sausage balloon in the corner that was twisting and untwisting itself into a number of shapes and animals, and there was even one shaped like a lion prancing upside down on the ceiling.  
  
“Breakfast first Harry,” Mrs Weasley said as she approached them both with plates piled high with all the necessities of a full English fry up and Harry noticed that she, nor anyone else was mentioning why they were so late down to breakfast which Harry was very grateful for, “Then presents. Happy Birthday, Dear.” The balloons seemed to move out of her way, creating a clear path for her wherever she moved and Harry wondered if that was the twins doing or Mrs Weasley's doing.   
  
They ate breakfast quickly, not realising that they had worked up quite the appetite from their morning activities. Harry loved Mrs Weasley’s cooking, he didn’t even think that the House-Elves could compete with one of her home cooked meals. Harry also didn’t think that Draco would be caught dead eating with less than perfect etiquette but there he was, shovelling food into his mouth with just as much vigour as Harry.  
  
“Me first Harry.” Sirius said with a large grin. He passed over a small, badly wrapped gift. Harry grinned at him and took it carefully, he unwrapped it slowly. He felt extremely lucky to have so many people in his life who actually wanted to celebrate his birthday. It had only been a handful of years ago when it was ignored completely, and only a few years before that he hadn’t even known when his birthday was. Yet another symptom of the Dursleys' long term neglect. Harry tipped the gift out into the palm of his hand. It was a little wooden dog. He brought it up to his face so that he could look at it properly, it looked familiar. There was a nick in it’s ear, and a scratch on its muzzle, and the paintwork was detailed enough that he could see the patterns of it’s fur…  
  
“Padfoot.” Harry murmured. The moment the name left his lips the little dog seemed to shudder to life, it shook itself from head to foot and circled his palm once before settling on its hind legs and looking up at him with a fast wagging tail and a lolling wooden tongue.  
  
“Your very own Padfoot!” Sirius exclaimed jovially.   
  
“This is fantastic Sirius.” Harry beamed up at him and he felt Draco squeezing his leg under the table.  
  
“Yeah well…I can’t get out much so I had to make do with what I had.” He looked almost abashed at how small his gift was, but Harry still loved it.  
  
“No, honestly, I love it.”  
  
“You’re welcome kiddo.” Sirius ruffled his hair.  
  
Remus’s gift was a stack of books on teaching Defence, Harry had flushed at his knowing look but thanked him genuinely. Mr and Mrs Weasley had managed to sneak away while they had been in Diagon Alley and had bought him a new pair of Seekers gloves to help him with his new found Captaincy. Harry had thanked them until he was purple in the face, he knew that the Weasleys didn’t have much and he couldn’t believe that they would spend their well earned and sorely needed Galleons on such an extravagant gift. The twins gave him a massive box full of their shops latest, which Harry could see Hermione eyeing with complete distrust and he made a mental note not to use any of it in front of her while they were at school.   
  
His best friends hadn't held back either. Hermione, taking a break from her usual homework diary, had given him _Quidditch Captains of England and Ireland_ written by the same author of _Quidditch Teams of England and Ireland_ , the book she had given him for Christmas a couple of years ago. She was quick to explain that she thought it would give him tips for the upcoming year, he smiled fondly at her and stood to give her a quick hug. Ron had gifted him a box of chess players, and had explained with a red face that the board wasn't the most important thing in the game, the players were, and having his own players meant he could play without being insulted by Ron's spare set. Harry knew he was embarrassed that he hadn't been able to afford a full board but Harry didn't care, he just grinned and slapped him on the back in thanks.  
  
Then it was Draco's turn to place a very large and seemingly heavy parcel in front of him.  
  
"It's a little...extravagant." Draco said with a flush. He hadn't meant to get Harry something that was so expensive and he hoped that it didn't look like he was throwing his wealth in everyone's faces. He just got Harry something that he thought he would like and would use. Harry felt the embarrassment like it was his own and he smiled encouragingly at Draco as he picked open the spellotape and revealed what was under the bright green wrapping paper.  
  
Harry froze.  
  
He couldn't believe it. He actually couldn't believe it.  
  
It took him running his hands over the smooth curved sides and tracing the carved runes with his fingers to actually believe it. Draco had gotten him a Pensieve. Holy shit.  
  
"Holy shit." He couldn't resist saying it out loud because it really did need repeating, "Sorry!" He said quickly to the Weasley Matriarch who had given him a quick rap on his head with her wand for his language.  
  
"I can't believe it." He said to Draco who was smiling proudly next to him.  
  
"I asked around a little bit, and people were only too happy to give me these." Draco reached under the table and pulled out a large wooden box. Harry opened the lid slowly. The inside was sectioned off into little squares separated by thin strips of wood, not unlike a potions case. Inside each small compartment was a single glass vial. Inside each glass vial was a dancing silvery strand. Memories. He picked one out and written on the side in tiny handwriting was:  
  
 _From: Sirius Black  
_ _Date: 1971  
_ _Subject: James and Lily Meet  
  
_ Harry pulled out another vial.  
  
 _From: Remus Lupin  
_ _Date: 1973  
_ _Subject: Lily in Potions  
  
_ Harry felt like crying. If he hadn't been sat in a room with his surrogate family, his Godfather and his Soulmate, he probably would have done just that.  
  
"Draco…" Harry whispered in awe.  
  
"Everyone chipped in." Draco lifted a vial towards the end.  
  
 _From: Molly Weasley  
_ _Date: 1980  
_ _Subject: Lily pregnancy_   
  
Draco was giving him the gift of his parents.  
  
"You once gave me my Mother as a Valentines Day present," Harry looked over at Narcissa who nodded at him and smiled in encouragement, "I thought that I might return the gesture." Harry laughed through a barely concealed sob and dragged Draco to his chest. This was everything. This was more than everything.  
  
"Thank you." Harry whispered into his ear, "Thank you." He repeated, into the room, "Everyone. Just. Thank you. So much. You have no idea-"  
  
"We know Harry." Sirius said. He stood behind him and put a hand on his shoulder to comfort him while Draco had his head resting on his other shoulder.  
  
"It was the least we could do." Remus said with a knowing smile.  
  
"Er, right everyone...Cake in the living room." Harry couldn't make out which twin it was but he didn't care because between them they were herding everyone out of the kitchen and towards the sitting room with a large white cake with iced golden snitches floating behind them all. Sirius patted him on the shoulder once more before leaving him in Draco's capable hands and following the cake out of the door with a can-can line of side plates and forks dancing through the air behind him. Harry gave a teary laugh at the sight, Sirius Black, never one to leave the room without a flare for the dramatic.  
  
"I love you." Harry said into Draco's shoulder.  
  
"I know." Draco replied with a smile. But the love that Harry felt back was almost overwhelming.


	7. Chapter 7

The rest of the summer was a mixture of highs and lows. On one side of things Harry was spending most of his time with Ron, Hermione and Draco. Playing chess and exploding snap in the living room, or holed away in Harry's bedroom sitting on a conjured sofa, chatting about the upcoming year. Conversations with Ron centred around Quidditch, about how much of a chance they had at winning the cup, and who they thought would try out for the team. Whenever he had time with Hermione he spent it reading through a few of their course materials for the upcoming year. She would make a vocal noise of exclamation whenever she found something particularly interesting, and would sit up straight and show Harry what she had come across with her eyes shining in delight. Harry admired her for that, there wasn't much in any of the books that really made him sit up and pay attention, a couple of chapters were fairly interesting but he couldn't say that they held his attention enough for him to start gushing over them and collecting references for further research like Hermione.   
  
His time with Draco was the most precious to him, once they were back at Hogwarts they would be separated at either ends of the castle for the majority of the time…Not that it ever stopped them from "sneaking" into each other's common room and dorms. If you could even call it sneaking when Draco Malfoy leaving the Gryffindor boys dormitory in his Slytherin robe was as common as seeing Hagrid with a beard. They would curl around each other in bed and talk about their term time plans. Or they would press their foreheads together in the silence of Harry's room and open their connection to its fullest extent until they weren't sure which emotion was coming from who. Sometimes Harry wished they could talk to each other like that, completely eliminating the need for vocalisations while they were alone. But telepathy seemed to be beyond them, the one time at the Ministry of Magic seemed to be a one off and no matter what they did they weren’t able to replicate it. They settled into their empathetic connection instead, learning how to read each other as easily as they could read a book. In the early morning or the late evening they would lose themselves in a whirlwind of hands and mouths until one of them was reaching for a wand to mutter the appropriate spells. Then afterwards, they would lay sweaty and satiated until one of them broke the comfortable silence. The only time they really spent apart was during Draco’s lessons with his Mother and Sirius, learning how to handle the ins and outs of the entire Malfoy estate and its holdings. That’s when Harry would seek out the company of his friends.  
  
On the other side of things, the side that Harry wished didn't exist, was the very obvious threat that they found themselves under. After a very tense face off between Sirius, fighting that Harry and the others should be allowed to attend the Order meetings, and Mrs Weasley, who was steadfast that they were children and should be doing no such thing, they had come to the agreement that Harry would be allowed to attend and no one else, as Sirius was still his Guardian. Until Draco argued that as Lord of his house he was no longer a child in the eyes of magic and the law and should be allowed to attend as a representative of the Malfoy House.   
  
So, begrudgingly, Draco and Harry were both allowed to attend the meetings. Much to Mrs Weasley's dismay. Which meant that once a week Harry and Draco bade goodbye to Ron, Hermione and Ginny and sidled into the meetings to hear what was going on in the outside world. They tried not to participate very much, Draco had theorised that they would gain the most information if the other Order members forgot they were even there, they wouldn’t censor themselves that way. That being said, once or twice Draco did have to grab Harry’s wrist or his knee and dig his nails in to stop Harry from speaking up about whatever perceived injustice he was listening to.   
  
Then there were the times that someone came rushing into the house, bypassing the security measures to sprint into the kitchen, only to leave a couple of minutes later with three or four other wizards on their tail. Harry and his friends would sit at the top of the steps to wait it out. With Harry clutching onto at least one part of Draco’s body, and Ron and Ginny hanging their heads in worry and clinging onto the hope that whichever member of their family had rushed out, would return unharmed.  
  
Which brought them to their imminent departure to Hogwarts and their last few days at Grimmauld Place. Harry was sitting on the edge of his bed, facing off with the Pensieve that was sat in the centre of the desk opposite him. He hadn't yet dived into the memories that he had been gifted, part of him wanted to savour each one, but another part of him wanted to see all of them in one day. And then there was that little niggle in the back of his mind, telling him that these memories wouldn't match up to his expectations.   
  
Draco was sitting up against the headboard behind him, with his legs stretched out and his ankles crossed reading through  _ Advanced Potion-Making.  _ He hadn’t said a word when he had returned from meeting with his Mother, he had looked between Harry and the inanimate bowl and had settled himself down on the bed, close enough to offer emotional support but not so close that Harry felt crowded. If this was something Harry wanted to tackle by himself then so be it.  Draco almost jumped when Harry suddenly stood up and picked up the case full of the memory vials. He put it down on the bed next to Draco and began to shuffle through them, picking a couple out to read the label before placing them back in and moving on. Draco put his book down when Harry did this for the fifth time.  
  
“Darling,” Draco said softly, “Do you need anything?” Draco shifted onto his knees, shuffling closer to Harry until he was looking at him over the open wooden case.  
  
“I just...Don’t know which one.” Harry answered lamely. He had been given the one thing he had always wanted and yet he was hesitating, “I thought about starting from the beginning but I want the first one to be one of their happiest moments.”  
  
“You’ll figure it out, I’m sure.” Draco said as he covered Harry’s hands with his own and smiled at him encouragingly.  
  
X  
  
Harry knocked on Sirius’s bedroom door the next day, with only one day left before they were all due to return to Hogwarts he had finally decided what to do about viewing the memories.  
  
“Harry?” Remus opened the door and looked out at the nervous teenager.  
  
“I’m just looking for Sirius.” A hand appeared on Remus’s shoulder and he stepped to one side to allow Sirius to see Harry.  
  
“I was just about to use my Pensieve for the first time.” Harry said, “I was wondering if you’d like to do it with me.” At the grin that crossed Sirius’s face Harry knew he had made the right choice.  
  
“Of course Harry, I would love that.”  
  
“Remus, would you like to-?”   
  
“No Harry, maybe another time. You two should do this together.” Remus squeezed Sirius’s shoulder and stepped away. He felt that Sirius and Harry deserved this time to bond and he didn’t want to get in the way.  
  
“I’ve been having a problem with working out which one to view first.” Harry said, as he led Sirius to his bedroom, which Draco had cleared out of, to allow him and Sirius privacy, “I was hoping you’d be able to pick one. I want it to be a happy moment they had together.” Harry opened his bedroom door and went straight to the end of his bed, the case was sat open on top of the closed lid of his school trunk.  
  
“I can help with that.” Sirius shifted through the vials, he picked up two and considered them for a second with one in each hand. After a few moments of careful consideration he put one back and held the remaining vial out to Harry. Without reading the label Harry turned to the Pensieve and poured out the swirling contents.  
  
“Ready kiddo?”  
  
“Yeah.” Sirius took hold of his elbow and together they leaned into the bowl and plunged their faces into the depths.  
  
Harry landed on his feet heavily and when he looked to his left Sirius was still standing next to him. But the smile on his Godfather's face was small and sad. Harry suddenly felt bad about asking him to do this. For Harry, he was seeing his Mother and Father for almost the first time, but Sirius was seeing his best friends in one of their happiest moments with the knowledge that there wouldn’t be many more to follow. Harry almost turned to Sirius to apologise but the words caught in his throat when he realised where they were.  They were standing under a white tent. There was a small house behind them and the garden was boxed in by tall trees and dense shrubbery. Harry didn’t know where they were but the house was rather charming and, if he was where he suspected, he could imagine his Mum and Dad living there. There was a small group of people in front of them and Harry wasted no time in joining them, Sirius followed a few steps behind, hanging back slightly to allow Harry to investigate.  Harry immediately picked up on their outfits, the men were all wearing formal robes, the women wearing pretty summer dresses. There was a Ministry Official standing in front of them all, he was holding an open book in two hands and was waiting for something. They were all waiting for something.  
  
“This was their wedding?” Harry asked.  
  
“Yeah.” Sirius agreed, “Your Mum would have wanted something bigger, but with the war they didn’t want to wait any longer. A lot of people got married quickly those days, I wouldn’t be surprised if the same thing happens now as well. Just look at Bill and Fleur.”  
  
Harry picked out the people he recognised fairly easily. Sirius was obvious, he looked a lot younger, but it was him no doubt, in black formal robes and a shit-eating grin. Remus was next to him, Harry could see that there were already a few scars across his face, but he looked a lot less weather-worn than he did in the present time. The one person that Harry wished he could unsee was Peter Pettigrew, Harry’s jaw clenched and he heard Sirius snarl slightly under his breath at the sight of him.  
  
“If I’d have known then…” Sirius trailed off and Harry didn’t need him to fill in the blanks to know what he wanted to say.  
  
“Here’s your Dad, look.” Sirius nodded over Harry’s shoulder. Harry turned around to see James Potter walking directly towards him.   
  
He was so young. Was the first thing Harry noticed. He logically knew that his parents had been young, but knowing and seeing were two different things entirely. Barely three years older than Harry himself, James looked youthful and happy. The dark cloud that was about to overrun their life was yet to hit, there was no prophecy at this point and Voldemort was no more or less of a threat to James and Lily as he was to the rest of the Wizarding World. He watched as his Dad joined his best friends next to the Officiant. Harry took another few moments to see who else was in attendance. Dumbledore was obvious, his beard was a little shorter and a little less grey but his robes were still loud, bright and mismatched.  
  
“The Longbottoms.” Sirius said, and Harry recognised them from the photo of the original Order of the Phoenix. A vast difference to the way they had looked when Harry had seen them in St Mungos last Christmas.   
  
“Fabian and Gideon Prewett.” Sirius said, as Harry’s gaze drifted over two red headed Weasley men.   
  
“Are they related to the Weasleys?” Harry asked, the two men looked so much like Fred and George, it was uncanny.  
  
“Molly’s brothers. They didn’t live very long after this, the Dolohovs murdered them.” Harry nodded sadly.  
  
“Who’s that?” He pointed to a woman who was standing next to Alice Longbottom and wearing a simple flowery dress.  
  
“Marlene McKinnon.”  
  
“Karkaroff, testified against her murder,” Harry said, “I remember, I saw it in Dumbledore’s Pensieve when I was in Fourth year.”   
  
“She lived for another year I think.” Sirius said as he moved through the small group with Harry, “Come and stand here.” Sirius guided him to stand right next to his Dad.  
  
As soon as Harry was in place, a soft chime of music began to play in the tent and Harry looked to the entrance along with everyone else. Harry was instantly thankful for Sirius’s placement, he was in the perfect place to see his Mum stepping through the opening.  She was beautiful. She was young and elegant in a white summer dress, it wasn’t anything too formal or over the top, but it had an understated elegance that made her look lovely. Her red hair was half pinned up out of her face but the rest of it fell down her back in simple waves. Harry wished he had the same eye for fashion that Draco had, he knew that Draco would look at that dress and be able to describe its shape and its style. He could talk about the accessories she had chosen and how they complimented her outfit. But all Harry saw was a white dress and a radiant smile. Harry looked to his Dad, he was staring at her with wide eyes. He couldn’t remove his eyes from her, he was absolutely devoted to watching her every movement as she walked down the makeshift aisle towards him. Harry realised that was exactly the same look he had when Draco was in front of him.  
  
“I look at Draco just like that.” Harry commented, and glanced at Sirius.  
  
“That’s why I didn’t doubt you when you told me you loved him. I’d seen that look every day from the moment James saw Lily on the train in our First year.”  
  
"They look wonderful." Harry said, once his Mum slid her hand into James's and stepped up to the Officiant.  
  
"They were happy." Sirius muttered.   
  
Harry watched in silence as his parents made their vows to each other. Making promises that never got to stand the test of time. Declaring their love in front of people who wouldn't be alive in two years time.  
  
"They made the most of the time they had." Sirius said.  
  
"Did they know? That they didn't have much time left?" Harry asked as his parents shared a loving kiss and turned to their guests with wide seemingly carefree smiles.  
  
"Not right now." Sirius's eyes tracked them as they began to mingle, "But once they found out about the prophecy, they knew it was only a matter of time. They did everything they could to hide away and keep you safe, but I think they knew it was coming."  
  
"You miss them." Harry pointed out sadly.  
  
"So do you."  
  
"I never knew them," Harry looked over at Sirius, "I miss the idea of them." Sirius was silent for a few seconds.  
  
"Yeah, I miss them," Sirius looked between James, Lily and Harry, "You've become exactly the type of person that your parents wanted you to be, Harry."  Harry ducked his head and rubbed at his eyes and Sirius squeezed his shoulder.  
  
"You're going to be a great man."  
  
"If I live that long." Harry said bitterly.   
  
"You will. We'll make sure of it."  Sirius and Harry watched the newlyweds and their wedding guests leave the tent and enter the house..  
  
"Come on, time to go."   
  
Sirius's hand was on his elbow once more and Harry found his feet leaving the floor.


	8. Chapter 8

Their journey to Kings Cross Station the next day had to go down in history as the smoothest transition from home to train that Harry had ever experienced. Everyone's trunks were packed the night before, and were left waiting at the bottom of the stairs overnight. Everyone was up on time, fed on time, dressed on time and were waiting in the entrance hall of Grimmauld Place, ready for their guard to arrive. Draco was standing next to Harry in absolute shock. The last time he had taken the journey with the Weasleys they had almost missed the train, at this rate they would actually be early.  
  
"Holy shit." Draco murmured, when Ginny, the last one to join their group, shrugged on her coat and sat down on top of her trunk, "Is everyone actually ready on time?" Harry laughed and flung an arm around Draco's shoulders so he could press a swift kiss to his temple. Harry had already said goodbye to Sirius, and Draco had given his Mother a long farewell hug, so they were ready and waiting to walk out the door. When Moody arrived, their trunks were lightened and shrunk one by one and stowed away in jacket pockets. Then he ushered them out to the group of wizards who were standing guard around the door waiting for them to appear. There was one adult per teenager, so they could side along apparate to the designated point in Kings Cross. Harry was happy to be dragged towards Remus by Moody’s firm hand on his shoulder. Ron was with Mr Weasley and Ginny with Mrs Weasley. Hermione was pushed towards Tonks and Draco towards Bill Weasley.   
  
"All ready?" Moody called. At the various chorus of assent from everyone Moody disapparated. He was to go first, to clear the way on the other side, and everyone else began to follow one by one.  
  
"Ready Harry?" Remus asked.  
  
"As ready as I'll ever be." Harry replied, the memory of his last side-along adventure with Dumbledore still fresh in his mind.  Remus twisted on the spot, dragging Harry along with him, and then there was that familiar and awful feeling of being squeezed through a tube. It only lasted a split second and Harry felt his feet hit the hard ground, but Remus didn't release his elbow for a few seconds. Giving him a much needed breather so he could keep the contents of his stomach under control and regain his footing.  
  
"I hate apparating." Harry ground out through clenched teeth.  
  
"You'll get used to it." Remus replied with a wry grin and a pat on his back, “Go on now before you get left behind, I’ll see you at Christmas.” Harry looked around him to see the rest of their little group congregating in a tight huddle, with the Hogwarts students grouped in the middle and the order members taking up a protective circle around them.  
  
“Come on, Potter.” Moody said gruffly.  
  
“You’re not coming?” Harry glanced over his shoulder at Remus.  
  
“No, we thought it best that the students didn’t see their old Werewolf Defence teacher. Go on.”  
  
“See you Remus.” Harry hurried forwards into the protective circle and was immediately nudged towards the middle by Ron and Draco. He rolled his eyes at the movement but didn’t bother to complain, he knew it would be a waste of breath.  
  
X  
  
Twenty minutes later Harry found himself standing alone on the busy train. Ron, Hermione and Draco had left to complete their prefect duties, with Draco giving him a light kiss on the lips before disappearing into the throng of students. Ginny had given him a weird look when he had suggested that they should go find an apartment and had excused herself to find Dean instead. So Harry was alone, and he was being stared at by almost everybody in his vicinity. He ducked his head and began to wade through the students to find an empty compartment. Harry was halfway down the train when luck was finally on his side. He looked through a compartment window to see Luna and Neville sitting opposite one another in an otherwise empty compartment. Luna was wearing her signature Spectrespecs and was focused on an edition of the Quibbler, while Neville was petting a purple plant that was trembling and pulsating with every pet. Harry had to stop himself from looking at it, it was both fascinating and gross, but he couldn’t figure out which one was the prevalent emotion. Either way, both of those emotions travelled down the bond and the curiosity that came from Draco's end made him smile to himself.  
  
“Hey guys.”   
  
“Harry! Come in!” Neville exclaimed with a wide grin, “Good summer?” He asked as Harry took a seat.  
  
“About as good as you’d expect.” Harry responded, trying his best not to stare at the plant. Neville’s expression faltered at the harsh reminder of the reality that surrounded them.  
  
“It’s all a bit real now isn’t it?” Neville asked and looked forlornly out of the window at the fog covered London, “When you were teaching us about all this stuff last year it didn’t seem real, but we can’t ignore it now, can we?”  
  
“No.” Harry said honestly, “No denying it now.”   
  
The mood was low and the silence between them stretched on for a minute or two, Harry busied himself by pulling his trunk out of his pocket and returning it to its original size so he could stash it on the rack above their heads.  
  
“Where are your friends, Harry?” Luna asked, eventually breaking the awkward silence that filled the compartment.  
  
“Apart from you two," Harry always made sure to point out that she was his friend too, he suspected she never really had many before, "They’re all off doing Prefect duties. I’m glad I found you guys.” Harry smiled at the blonde girl who had lowered her magazine to talk to him, “How was your summer Luna?”  
  
“Daddy and I were going to go on a Demiguise hunt. But Daddy thought it would be best if we stayed home.” She said.  
  
“What’s a Demiguise?” Harry asked.  
  
“It’s a wonderful creature! They can turn invisible which makes them notoriously difficult to find and they have this ability to see a little bit into the future so they escape often.”  
  
“How do you even find a creature like that?” Harry asked.  
  
“Daddy and I have discovered that the only way to catch one is to have a pure heart and to know exactly what you’re planning to do with it once you catch it. If they know they aren’t going to be harmed then they’re more likely to show themselves. They like food too! We usually take a lot of food to give to them.”  
  
“Sounds like a great experience. I’m sorry you had to cancel it.”  
  
“It was probably for the best. We didn’t want to take the chance of leaving the country right now.” Harry opened his mouth to reply, but he was cut off by the door being jerked open and the noise of a bickering Ron and Hermione filled the compartment.  
  
“Ronald, you can’t condone-”  
  
“Hey Neville.” Ron said loudly, cutting Hermione off mid-sentence. She fumed behind his back and Harry swore that she would have probably hexed him if she weren’t trying to set an example for the younger years.   
  
“Alright Ron,” Neville nodded to him and quickly shifted his weird plant off the seat and onto the floor in front of him so that there was enough room for everyone to sit, “Hermione, Malfoy.”   
  
Draco, having already changed into his Slytherin robes, dropped down next to Harry. He perched on the edge of the seat.  
  
“Not staying?” Harry asked before Draco could open his mouth.  
  
“I should probably go find Pansy and Blaise, I haven’t seen them all summer.”   
  
“Okay, I’ll see you later?”  
  
“I’ll come by before we reach Hogwarts.” He darted in for a quick kiss before standing up and leaving the way he came.  
  
“Neville…What is that?” Ron was pointing at the plant with a horrified expression.  
  
“This,” He picked the plant up and showed it to them proudly, “Is a Whomping Puffapod.”  
  
“A...What?” Hermione asked.  
  
“It’s a crossbreed, between Whomping Willow sapling and a Puffapod. Professor Sprout wanted to find out if a Whomping Willow’s attitude could be changed with a bit of crossbreeding and a bit of affection. She didn’t think she’d be able to give it the attention it needed so she asked me to look after it over the summer.”  
  
“Erm, well done Neville. It’s a very fine plant.” Hermione lied through her teeth as the plant continued to shiver as Neville started to stroke it again.  
  
The compartment door opened once more and the five of them turned to the open door in surprise.  
  
“Is Harry Potter in here? And a Neville Longbottom?” A small first year boy asked.  
  
“Yeah?” Harry addressed him. The small first year passed over two envelopes and with wide, hero-worship eyes he backed away and ran down the length of the train carriage. Harry passed Neville’s letter over to him and wasted no time in opening his own.  
  
“What is it?” Hermione asked, leaning forward on her seat.  
  
“Slughorn wants us to join him for some lunch. He’s started his collection early.”  
  
“Collection?” Neville asked, looking up at Harry with a furrow between his eyebrows.  
  
“He likes to collect students with special skills or connections, so that they can do favours for him when they make it in life.” Harry explained as succinctly as possible.   
  
“But why does he want me?” Neville asked.  
  
“You’re a wonderful Wizard Neville!” Luna and Hermione cried almost simultaneously.  
  
“Yeah, right.”  
  
“You’re great Neville. But I wouldn't worry about Slughorn, he’s just a bit barmy.” Neville nodded but he didn't look very convinced.  
  
“Few games of Exploding Snap before you have to go?” Ron asked. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a well worn deck and everyone readily agreed.  
  
X  
  
Neville and Harry entered Slughorn's compartment together a couple of hours later. Harry was mildly surprised at the students that Slughorn had chosen for this year's collection. Apart from one. His eyes immediately flew to Draco who was sat bolt upright, with his hands folded neatly in his lap and his lips pressed so tightly together that they might as well have been pursed. Whatever reason Slughorn had to invite him to join his precious Club mustn’t have been one Draco appreciated. Harry couldn’t ignore the offence that Draco was exuding or the disgust he was feeling towards the Professor.  Harry acknowledged Blaise with a quick nod, he was sat by Draco’s side looking almost bored with the entire thing. As well as the two Slytherins Harry noticed a particularly pudgy Ravenclaw student he didn’t know the name of, and next to him was a Gryffindor from the year above Harry, McLaggan something or other. Harry’s eyes then met Ginny’s, who gave him a brief but pained smile from her position next to the large Professor, Harry couldn’t wait to find out how she had attracted Slughorn’s attention enough to warrant an invite. Slughorn himself seemed to wobble in delight at Harry’s entrance and he stood up suddenly.  
  
“Harry, Harry. Come in, come in. And you Mr Longbottom. Plenty of room.” Slughorn raised his arms wide and gestured to the seats opposite him, “You know Miss Weasley of course, she says she’s a friend of yours, and you might have crossed paths with Mr McLaggan-”  
  
“Call me Cormac sir.” The blonde pretty boy interrupted with a smile that others would have found charming, Harry just found it sycophantic.  
  
“Cormac, yes yes, Cormac’s family works in various Ministry Departments, you know.” Harry did not know, nor did he really care, “I doubt you know Mr Belby very well, if the houses are anything like they used to be I doubt you have much contact with many Ravenclaws. His family invented Wolfsbane, very clever indeed.” Harry bit the inside of his mouth and stopped himself from rolling his eyes, “And of course you know Mr Malfoy, quite the news story that was, and Mr Zabini I’m sure you’ve had some contact with.”  
  
“Yes sir.” Harry said once the Professor stopped talking and actually let him and Neville enter the carriage and take the last two remaining seats.   
  
“We were just discussing Miss Weasley’s talent with hexes, Bat-Bogey was it?”  
  
“Yes Sir.” Ginny flushed under the scrutiny and looked over to Harry, begging him for help with wide eyes.  
  
“Actually Sir, Ginny has five older brothers so she has had a lot of practice with hexes. She’s quite adept.”  
  
“Is that so? Well, bravo young Lady, it was a fine bit of magic.” Slughorn complimented and moved on to talk about Marcus Belby’s family while passing around a plate of cold cuts of meat, followed by a platter of chutneys.   
  
For the most part Harry drowned him out, he wasn’t too interested in Belby’s complete lack of interest in his family's company or McLaggans ass-kissing. He  _ was _ interested in Draco’s leg pressed against his own and the way Draco was leaning into his side, it would have been imperceptible to anyone above the table, but Harry could feel the pressure of Draco’s hip resting against his own. He was so caught up in the firm line of Draco’s thigh and the slight smirk playing about the corner of his mouth that he almost missed the question aimed at him.  
  
“I’m sorry, Professor, would you mind repeating that please?” Harry asked when everyone’s eyes were on him, awaiting an answer to a question he only half heard.  
  
“That’s quite alright Harry, I often find myself caught up in the richness of this affair,” Slughorn gestured to the food in front of them all, “I was just commenting on your most recent feat of magic in the Ministry of Magic, they say you fought off He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named once again?”  
  
“Oh, that,” Harry said blandly, “I mean, yeah I guess. But I had loads of help, Ginny was there and Draco faced him too.” Harry wanted to sing Draco’s accolades from the rooftops, but he couldn’t without telling him details that only a handful of people knew. He didn’t want their Soulmate connection to be the talk of the Wizarding world.  
  
“Ah, yes, young Mr Malfoy.” Slughorn looked at him completely unimpressed and Draco immediately bristled, “I heard all about the passing of your Father of course. He was a good Wizard in his time, such a shame to watch someone so young be overtaken by the lure of dark magic." Draco didn't respond but from his close position Harry could see his jaw clench.  
  
“I’m sure you can imagine that there was no love lost there.” Draco replied. He was lying of course, the death of his Father had affected him greatly for weeks. He had been torn between mourning the loss of the man he knew as his Father and being glad that one of Voldemort's strongest followers was dead, until Harry assured him that he was allowed to mourn and be sad about losing the man he once looked up to as a role model.  
  
“Yes, of course. Such a sad path to take in life, not a path you find yourself on, I daresay Mr Malfoy?”   
  
“No.” Draco gritted his teeth and Harry’s hand landed on his thigh to ground him.  
  
“Good, good. I heard your OWLs were exemplary, the product of good hard work?” Even Harry bristled at that.  
  
"I didn't cheat, if that's what you mean. Sir." Harry's fingers dug in, he didn't like Slughorn either and he wanted to let Draco rip into him. But Dumbledore had asked him to get on the Professors good side, and he wasn't quite sure allowing his Boyfriend to hex him would go down very well.  
  
"No, no, of course not. I wouldn't imply such a thing. Not that it would be possible with the way they set the exams up these days."   
  
"Actually, Professor," Harry dove in to prevent Slughorn from insulting his Soulmate any further, "Draco has always been first and second in our classes. There's only ever been one student ahead of him in the past five years."  
  
"Well done indeed, Mr Malfoy. It's good to see someone so dedicated to their studies." Slughorn then moved swiftly onto Blaise and left Draco and Harry alone for a little while. Long enough for Harry to soothe the tension in Draco's shoulders and silently calm him down, forcing calming and soothing emotions through their connection.  
  
When Slughorn finally released them from their enforced meeting it had already gone dark outside and Harry knew that it wouldn't be long before they made it to Hogwarts. Draco and Blaise walked halfway down the train with Harry, Neville and Ginny before they broke away to go to their own compartment. Well, Blaise broke away, Draco tried to but he was promptly dragged back against a solid chest with a single tug.  
  
"You guys go ahead." Harry said, and Draco waved Blaise to enter the compartment without him.  
  
"Well done for not hexing a teacher." Harry murmured against his cheek.  
  
"Well done for stopping me." Harry grinned, then he slid one hand down Draco's jaw and tilted his head at just the perfect angle for him to dive in for a kiss. A kiss that drew the breath from Draco's lungs and made his knees go weak. Harry's lust was like a spike driving through the part of his brain that dealt with those sorts of hormones and Draco couldn't (didn't want to) escape it. Then his hands were fisting in the robes hanging from Harry's shoulders and Harry's hand was buried in the back of his hair. And it was all just becoming a little too much for such a public display. Especially when there were first years about.  
  
"Stop it, Harry." Draco mumbled against Harry's mouth when they finally came up for air, "We'll be arriving soon."   
  
"Sorry," Draco didn't need the emotions in his head to tell him just how not sorry Harry actually was, "I just can't stop myself sometimes."  
  
"Well you're going to have to." Draco pulled away slightly, leaning back away from Harry's mouth without removing Harry's arm from his waist, "Now, I'm going to go in here," He gestured to the compartment behind them, "And I trust you'll make your way to your own compartment?"  
  
"Yes, Mr Prefect." Harry gave him a teasing smile but did as he was told, letting Draco go and turning to find his way back down the train to his own friends.


	9. Chapter 9

_ What do you think of Snape being the Defence Professor? _ Harry asked Draco much later that evening, while he was slouched on one of the sofas in the common room with his two-way journal open on his lap.  
  
As soon as the feast had ended Harry had hurried up to the common room to get the best seats in front of the fire so that Ron and Hermione could complete their Prefect duties. He had his legs spread right across the sofa, ankles crossed and resting on the opposite arm of the chair. No one dared to ask _ Harry Potter _ to move, so he was mostly left alone, he should probably feel bad about using his reputation for such gain but Draco was always telling him to make the most of his fame, and securing a couple of seats in the common room wasn’t exactly the height of exploitation.  
  
_ Seems suspicious. _ Draco replied after a couple of minutes.  
  
_ He’s wanted to teach Defence ever since he first started teaching.  _ Harry didn’t think that piece of information was common knowledge in the halls of Hogwarts, not even in the Slytherin common room.  
  
_ So why did Dumbledore give him the post now? We haven’t had an abundance of Defence Professors over the years.  _ Why indeed? Harry liked to think he knew Dumbledore a little more than the other students but not even he could presume to know what the older Wizard was thinking.  
  
_ I don’t know. Dumbledore must have a reason. At least we don’t have to worry about him after this year.  _ Harry had said the same thing to Hermione and she had looked at him scandalised at the very suggestion, Ron had simply burst out laughing and stuffed another fork full of mash into his mouth so he wasn’t forced to comment when Hermione turned to him for support.  
  
_ What do you mean?  
  
_ _ The position’s cursed isn’t it? No one ever lasts longer than a year.   
  
_ _ I guess we’ll see.  
  
_ Harry’s reply was interrupted by his best friend jumping over the back of the sofa and landing on his outstretched legs, and no doubt almost breaking them in the process.  
  
“Fuck sake Ron!” Harry pulled his legs away and kicked Ron in the thigh.  
  
“Move your legs in future Harry.” Ron just punched him in the shoulder in return and got himself comfortable on the overstuffed sofa.  
  
“I was saving a seat for you guys wasn’t I.” Hermione rolled her eyes and walked around the sofa (“like a normal fucking person Ronald”) to sit on the floor closest to the fire, “Any of the firsties cry yet?” Harry asked.  
  
“Harry! Don’t be mean, we were first years at one point too you know.” Hermione admonished him.  
  
“Come on Hermione, we all know that at least one first year cries every year.” Ron agreed with Harry, and she simply rolled her eyes at them both.  
  
“Well it certainly doesn’t help when bullies like you laugh at them.” Harry left them to their bickering once more, drowning it out as background noise as he always did whenever they got into one of their half-hearted arguments. The pendant he always wore started to heat up against his chest.  
  
_ Are you still there?  _ Draco had written when he realised that Harry had stopped responding.  
  
_ Yeah, sorry. Ron and Hermione just got back.  
  
_ _ What do they think about Snape?  
  
_ _ They think I’m blowing it out of proportion. Hermione thinks that Dumbledore needs something from Slughorn and the only way to get it is to bring him back to Hogwarts.  _ They had spoken about it over the feast and Hermione had made her opinion very clear, ‘leave it alone, focus on school, don’t jump to conclusions’.  
  
_ So giving Snape the Defence position was the lesser of two evils?  _ Draco wrote.  
  
_ Yeah, according to Hermione anyway.   
  
_ _ We can only wait and see. Got to go, Pansy is harassing me.  
  
_ _ See you at breakfast.  
  
_ _ Love you.  _ Harry watched as Draco’s handwriting faded to nothing.  
  
“They’re meant to be used for studying.” Harry tuned into the conversation to hear Hermione reprimanding Ron on his attitude towards their sixth year schedules once again, “You aren’t supposed to use your free periods for messing about.”  
  
“They’re called free periods for a reason Hermione.” Ron’s argument never changed.  
  
“Do you have any idea how much work we’ll be given this year? We’ll need every moment we can get to keep on top of everything.” But neither did Hermione’s.  
  
“We don’t even know what our schedules are going to be like this year guys, can you at least hold this argument for when we actually know our classes.” Hermione huffed but complied and Ron just rolled his eyes.  
  
“I’m heading up to bed.” She said, and she stood up and flounced off towards the girls dorm.  
  
“I thought she was starting to wind down with all the homework stuff.” Ron said.  
  
“Hermione will be Hermione.” Harry shrugged.  
  
“Ain’t that the truth.” Ron rolled his eyes once again before looking at Harry brightly, “Anyway...Chess?”  
  
X  
  
Their first breakfast the next day was the usual standard of affair. There were rows upon rows of toast down the centre of each table, serving bowls full of fruit and porridge, large serving plates of bacon, sausages and eggs. It always took Harry a day or two to acclimatise to the different lifestyle he had during the summer versus the term. It was made much easier these days, now that he was able to spend most of the summer at Grimmauld Place and away from the Dursleys.  
  
He was just tucking into a sausage smothered in beans when Draco walked into the Great Hall, closely followed by Pansy and Blaise. His friends went straight to the Slytherin table but Draco made a slight detour to the Gryffindor's. He stopped by Harry's side and gave him a fond kiss on the cheek and a quick good morning before he strode off to join his own house. Harry froze, Sausage held aloft a few inches from his mouth, before he flushed and happily continued on with his usual morning routine. Ron just rolled his eyes, more than used to their displays at this point and silently thanked whomever was listening that they hadn't given everyone a huge tongue display, last time he had been put right off his food. Hermione barely noticed, she was watching McGonagall's progression down the Gryffindor table with laser focus. The Professor was handing out timetables to the students and with their sixth year being so different to the last five Harry couldn't blame Hermione for being slightly on edge.  
  
"Mr Potter," McGonagall greeted when she finished speaking to Ron and moved onto him, "I have your classes here and all seems to be in order, I see you haven't listed Potions as a chosen subject, do you no longer wish to be an Auror?"  
  
"No, I do Professor. It's still something I'm considering. I just thought I needed an O."  
  
"Professor Slughorn isn't quite as stringent as Professor Snape, he only requires an E at OWL level. I assume you would like me to put you down for the subject?"  
  
"Yes Professor! But...I don't have any books or supplies." Harry added, taking his timetable from her.  
  
"I'm sure Professor Slughorn will be accommodating."  
  
"Thanks Professor." McGonagall moved on to discuss Hermione’s schedule and Harry looked down at his lessons for the day. He had Defence against the Dark Arts first, followed by Potions, Harry was glad that he’d see Draco in both those classes but he didn’t know if he could get past his most hated Professor teaching his favourite subject.  
  
“I need to go back up to the Tower to collect some books, are you coming Harry? Ron?” Hermione asked.  
  
“You guys go on ahead.” Harry said, “I’m just gonna see what Draco’s timetable is like.”  
  
“Don’t be too long Harry, you don’t want to be late to the first class of the year.”  
  
“With Snape teaching it? Not a chance, he’ll probably chuck me out for the rest of the year. Five minutes, tops.” He waved to Ron and Hermione and walked around to where Draco was sitting at the Slytherin table.  
  
“Is that Harry Potter?” He heard a Slytherin first year whisper to the person next to them. Unfortunately, the first year just so happened to be within Draco’s hearing range.  
  
“Don’t whisper about him too much, he’ll get an awfully big head.” Draco commented loudly to the First year who was sitting two places down from him.  
  
“But he’s the Chosen One.” Another First year said with a gaping expression.  
  
“Oh really,” Draco sniffed in displeasure, “You’re both in Slytherin now, show some decorum. We don’t idolise speccy gits with a lack of self-preservation and a hero complex.”  
  
“Thank you for that rousing introduction, Darling.” Harry teased and came to a stop next to Draco’s seated form.  
  
“I can’t let your ego get any bigger Potter, it’ll be impossible for you to fit through the classroom doors soon.”  
  
“Oh sweetheart, it’s not your words that stroke my ego, as you well know.” The first years looked confused, and the second years looked scandalised. Harry felt a little bit sorry about starting their corruption so early, it didn’t feel like a very Gryffindor thing for him to do.  
  
“Timetable?” Draco held his hand out and Harry put the parchment into his awaiting palm.  
  
“The classes must be smaller this year.” Draco said as he looked over it, “We’re in every class together.”   
  
Harry looked around the Great Hall again, it was something that he, Ron, and Hermione had discussed last night at the opening feast. The school’s population seems to have decreased by at least a quarter of students, it shouldn’t have been a surprise to see how many parents had taken their kids out of school, but it had been. In his opinion, the closer to Dumbledore you were the safer you were and anyone who thought differently was just wrong.  
  
“You’re in Potions?” Draco looked up at him with a dazzling smile, which Harry readily returned.  
  
“Apparently Slughorn only requires an Exceeds.” It had been Draco who had hugged him to sleep the night they had received their results, the night Harry couldn’t stop tossing and turning, thinking about which direction his future should take, now that being an Auror was most definitely no longer an option.  
  
“That’s fantastic, Harry.” It really was.  
  
“Heard you got full marks in Defence, Potter.” Blaise said from across the table.  
  
“Apparently so.” Harry said with a nod and Draco’s smile was small but proud.  
  
“I suppose a congratulations is in order, but I don’t think any of us were surprised by that.” Blaise said.  
  
“Thank you.”   
  
“Granger came top in the year?” Pansy asked.  
  
“She did!” Harry responded with a wide grin, he was extremely proud of her, having seen first hand how much work she had put into her studies last year. Even with everything else going on.  
  
“She deserved it.” Blaise said and Pansy nodded along with him. Harry didn’t know if he had just entered some sort of twilight zone where Draco’s friends had become kind and considerate but he wasn’t about to shoot a gift horse in the mouth.  
  
“I’ll let her know.” Harry smiled, and took his timetable back from Draco, “I need to go get some books from my dorm. I’ll see you all in Defence?” He kissed Draco on the crown of his head and walked away once they’d all nodded their assent. As he walked away he heard that very same First year go-  
  
“Wait a minute, you’re the Malfoy from the papers!” He didn’t hear Draco’s response but he had no doubt it was as scathing as Harry expected it to be.


	10. Chapter 10

"Control. For those who lack it the art of non-verbal casting will be an impossible feat. I do not expect many of you to master the intricacies of this branch of magic. Insomuch that I would have omitted it from your teachings altogether. However, the school curriculum is such, and it is out of my hands. So I will spend the required time to teach you this skill, and those who do not master it in the allotted time frame will be woefully under prepared for the remainder of the year." Snape swept his eyes over the sixth year class and Harry saw Neville start to tremble out of the corner of his eye.  
  
"Pair up. Today you will be disarming and shielding only. Begin."   
  
Harry grabbed Ron as his partner, leaving Hermione with Neville. He felt a little bad for both of them, but if anyone was going to help Neville it would be Hermione. Harry might have done a bit of teaching last year but this was completely new to him and he wouldn't be much help to Neville when he was struggling too. The room was close to silent. After fifteen minutes of constipated facial expressions, bright red faces from those who thought holding their breath would help them concentrate, and deep sighs of frustration, Harry began to hear the slight mumblings of Expelliarmus and Protego from either side of him. And wands suddenly started to fly from peoples hands. There was no way that Snape wasn't aware, but Harry realised that he just didn't care. To him, learn it or not, he's done his job by teaching them.  
  
Harry glanced over at Draco, he was part of the handful of students who weren't trying to cheat. He wasn't pulling a weird face like the others, nor was his face red from the effort, but his left hand was clenched into a fist. His teeth had drawn his bottom lip into his mouth and he was biting down on the soft flesh in concentration. There was a furrow between his brows and his lips were twisted in frustration.  Harry felt it before he saw it. The rush of magic that left his core, their core, told him everything he needed to know before Blaise's wand had even left his grip. Draco caught it perfectly, and he grinned. Harry felt the rush of self satisfaction from Draco and made sure to send a wave of joy to him in celebration. Draco's control had always been impeccable, and he had spent the summer regaining that calm control over the much wilder magic that came directly from Harry. So Harry wasn't surprised that Draco had managed a non-verbal Expelliarmus before everyone else.  
  
Hermione was second. She caught Neville's wand by the tips of her fingers. Harry knew that if she weren't in the middle of class, with Snape as the teacher no less, she would have jumped up and down in delight. As it was, she settled for a proud smile and accepted the pats to her shoulders from the students on either side of her. Once again, Harry wasn't surprised. He felt like he should be doing better at this though, he was supposed to be the top of the Defence class. But then, he'd never really had the control or finesse over his magic that Draco and Hermione had, he was a 'throw raw power at the problem' type of guy. But if Draco could do it with their magic then Harry could too. So he gripped his wand a little tighter, adjusted his stance a little wider, and stared at Ron in concentration. Ron, whose face was starting to resemble a tomato. Harry gathered everything within himself, he dove deep into the swirling depths of his and Draco's shared magic and tried to control it the way Draco had.  He heard Ron's whispered Expelliarmus before he saw the jet of light flying towards him. He barely had to think of the word Protego when a shimmering shield appeared between them. The Expelliarmus rebounded and went hurtling back at Ron with the force of a whip. Harry had to wince when the spell hit him so hard he went stumbling backwards, falling on his arse. His wand clattered to the ground about 6 feet behind him. Draco was delighted at the display. Harry just felt guilty.  
  
"Shit, mate, you okay?" Harry asked, and stuck his arm out to pull him up.  
  
"Okay? Harry, that was bloody brilliant. How'd you do that?" Ron turned to find his wand but Harry quickly Accio’d it and passed it over with a shrug.  
  
"I have no idea." Harry said, just as the bell rang for their next class.  
  
"Dismissed." Snape said from where he had settled at his desk.   
  
For the first time in his entire time at Hogwarts Harry was walking down to Potions without the feeling of dread in his gut. That’s not to say that he was looking forward to the upcoming Potions lesson, it was still Potions after all, but the subject was no longer tainted by Snape's dour attitude. He figured he might at least have half a chance of making it through the lesson without losing house points, probably for the first time ever. He didn’t know what Slughorn's teaching methods were, but he had to think that anyone was better than Snape.   
  
Having not expected to be able to take Potions this year Harry hadn't bothered to pick up the course book or any supplies, Slughorn didn't seem to mind, yet another shocking parallel to Snape. If he had turned up to Snape's class unprepared he would probably be tossed out on his arse. He found himself rooting through the supply cupboard and picking up a tattered book with a split spine. By time he'd found the book the rest of the sixth years had arrived and Slughorn was corralling them around the bubbling cauldrons that were under stasis charms at the front of the classroom.   
  
"Can anyone tell me what this first Potion is?" Slughorn asked the students. Harry recognised it immediately.  
  
"Veriterserum." Draco said. He looked at the cauldron in distaste, the memory of taking the Potion the Christmas before and being questioned by Dumbledore was still fresh in his mind. It hadn't been a pleasant experience.  
  
"Well done, Mr Malfoy, five points to Slytherin. Veriterserum indeed, once administered it forces a person to tell what they believe to be true." Slughorn moved to the next cauldron, "This one, anybody?"  
  
"Polyjuice Potion." Hermione answered immediately. Harry smirked over at Ron, and Hermione flushed, being a cat for a month hadn't been a highlight of her second year. Harry rather thought she had preferred petrification over having a tail and ears.  
  
"Bravo, Miss…"  
  
"Granger, Sir."  
  
"Miss Granger, five points to Gryffindor.” Harry figured she deserved those points, almost as if she was finally earning some recognition for all the effort she went to in second year, “Polyjuice allows the drinker to take the physical form of another person. That form is determined by adding a piece of DNA from the original person."   
  
Slughorn had barely finished asking about the next Potion when Hermione answered instantly, earning another five points. Amortentia. Harry recognised it from the Department of Mysteries, the fountain of Amortentia with its shimmering surface and it's tendrils of smoke rising off the surface was a much grander version of what was in the small cauldron. But nevertheless it was unmistakable. Harry allowed himself to bask in the scent that rose in waves towards him. It was different for everyone, for him it was the unmistakable scent of treacle tart, broom polish and Draco’s cologne.  
  
The fourth potion caught Harry's interest immediately but he didn’t know what it was until Slughorn identified it. Felix Felicis, the ability to be lucky for an entire day. What he wouldn't do to take a swig of that next time he had to face Voldemort. Not that he had much of a chance at winning it, but one could dream. He was sure it would be a toss up between Hermione and Draco, he loved his best friend but Draco's skill in Potions outstripped everyone in their year so he was sure to win it.  
  
Once they were told to start brewing their potions Harry realised that he was about to have a lot more trouble brewing than he had previously thought. The old book was full of tiny scribbled writing, the chicken scratch covered almost every available space on the page. The previous owner had even crossed out parts of the instructions and had given their own suggestions for how they thought it should be brewed. Harry was determined to follow the original method. Until the first correction turned out to be a good idea.   
  
And the second correction turned his Potion the exact shade of lilac it needed to be. Was he actually brewing a perfect Potion?  
  
Hermione was going to kill him. Fuck.  _ Draco _ was going to kill him.   
  
X  
  
"You followed an untested Potions method?" Draco was standing in front of Harry with his arms crossed tightly across his chest and his eyes blazing with fury,   
  
"Are. You. Insane?!" The Slytherin half yelled, Hermione was standing next to him, looking equally as ticked off. She was yet to say anything, but Harry was pretty sure that Draco was encapsulating everything she had planned to say and more. Ron was hanging back, not wanting to get in the way of the Slytherin on the warpath. He had whispered to Harry at the end of the lesson that he thought it was brilliant. He just wished he had picked up that book instead of Harry.   
  
"Listen, I know I didn't properly earn the Felix Felicis, and your Potion was easily the best. So, you can have it, if you want?" Harry offered, he didn't really want to hand it over, but if it soothed his ruffled Soulmate then he definitely would. He had no doubt that Draco was feeling how begrudgingly the offer was made but Harry hoped that the intention was appreciated anyway.  
  
"This isn't about the damned prize Harry!" Draco yelled again, Harry was suddenly glad that he had told them to meet him in the Room of Requirement, their relationship was constantly under scrutiny as it was. Who knows how the general Hogwarts population would react to Draco yelling at him in the middle of the Great Hall.   
  
"Do you even understand how dangerous that was?! I spent the entirety of last term tutoring you through your Potions OWL, how many times did I tell you about the dangers of mis-brewing?"  
  
"About a hundred." Harry winced. He had mentioned it every time Harry had answered a question wrong, or written the wrong measurements for an ingredient. It had been his most pressed upon issue, mis-brewed potions were dangerous and they were volatile and more than one Witch or Wizard had died through improper potions technique.  
  
"Exactly! A hundred! And in your first Sixth year class you decide to throw it all to Hell and follow the instructions written in a scratty old book!" He did have a point, but it didn't mean Harry was about to back down from his point just yet.  
  
"But it worked?" Harry desperately tried to defend. He wasn't expecting a well done by any means, but at least a little recognition that he had finally, successfully, brewed a complete potion. A really rather difficult one too.  
  
"Don't you even try to defend yourself Harry," Draco jabbed his finger into Harry's chest, "You  _ know _ how dangerous that was."  
  
"I know!" Harry exclaimed, "I do know, but the other instructions just made sense to me." They had too, the first one had anyway, why would you attempt to cut something that jumped about under your knife. Crushing it, and pinning it down so it couldn't move made loads more sense. He didn't want to admit that he'd only followed the second change because the first one had worked so well.  
  
"Oh, so you're suddenly a qualified Potions Master now?" Draco's sarcasm was almost off the charts.  
  
"No." Harry huffed as he reached his limit for the amount of telling off he could sit through.  
  
"How could you-" Draco began to admonish once again but Harry had heard more than enough. He couldn't sit through his speech again.  
  
"Be so stupid? Yeah, I heard you the first time." Harry scowled at him and crossed his arms, "I get it. Can you just back off! Nothing bad happened did it?" Harry was officially pissed off, and he hadn't been pissed off at Draco for quite some time. But there was no need for Draco to repeat his point over and over again, as though he hadn't understood Draco's point the first ten times he had yelled at him.  Draco physically recoiled at the snapping tone from Harry and finally paid attention to the anger that his soulmate was feeling. Anger, shame and guilt. Anger from the way he was being admonished like a child, shame that he had put everyone around him in danger, and guilt that he had snapped at his Boyfriend. Draco threw his arms up in the air dramatically and released a deep sigh. He turned away from the bloody Gryffindor to drop down onto one of the plush couches the room provided, effectively turning his back on the situation both literally and figuratively.  
  
"Harry-" Hermione began, but she was quickly cut off.  
  
"If you want to have a go Hermione just leave it." Harry took one look at her surprised expression, and noticed the way Ron had taken a step forward, his mouth opening to defend her honour. Harry felt even more guilty than he had before.   
  
"Fuck, I'm sorry Hermione." He supposed he owed Draco an apology too, but looking at the blonde now, who was staring into the fire with his entire body turned completely away from Harry, Harry didn't think his apology would go down too well.  
  
"Actually, I was going to ask if we could have a look at the book." She said curtly, not impressed with Harry's tone of voice but happy that he had the sense to realise when he had gone overboard. It was a stark contrast to the way he had been behaving last September. In Harry's own words, he had been a little shouty and she wasn't about to let him get away with it again.  
  
Harry went over to his bag. He had thrown it to one side upon entering the room, in preparation for Draco and Hermione to burst through the doors and start asking him questions. He hadn't got much further than, "someone made some changes in my book and they worked better than the original instructions" before Draco had descended on him. He rifled through the contents of his bag, shifting to one side his notebooks and textbooks to pull out the battered copy of Advanced Potions Making. He passed it over to Hermione and she wasted no time in sitting down next to Draco. They both began to dissect the book itself and the writing within it. Harry sighed, he was pretty sure he wasn't getting that back.  
  
"Tough luck mate," Ron finally approached, sensing that the danger had finally passed.  
  
"Guess I had it coming. Draco was right, it was a bit daft of me."  
  
"Brilliant though, Slughorn thinks you're the top of the class now."  
  
"I don't think Draco appreciated that either." Harry said with a pointed look at the back of his Boyfriends head.  
  
"I think we've lost them for at least an hour. Do you reckon they'll let us go down to Dinner without them? I'm starving." Harry chuckled, it was nice to see that through the years his best mate was still exactly the same.  
  
"You ask, they might hex me." Harry said.  
  
"Oy, eggheads! We're off to Dinner, you coming?" Ron yelled. The response came in the form of Hermione raising her arm behind her and waving them away impatiently, "Seems like permission to me." Ron grinned. Harry just laughed and followed him out of the room, grabbing his bag and cloak on the way out.   
  
X  
  
"We've come to agreement." Draco said suddenly, appearing at Harry's side and climbing over the bench to sit next to him at the Gryffindor table. It was so natural for them to sit with each other at meal times that he didn't think anything of it until a small voice piped up.  
  
"Aren't we supposed to sit at our own House tables?" A first year Gryffindor asked the person next to him. That person just so happened to be Seamus Finnegan and Harry winced at how inappropriate his answer was about to be.  
  
"Yeah, usually." Wow, for Seamus that was actually reserved, "He's Harry Potter though isn't he? Gets away with all sorts." Harry didn't know if the student came from a wizarding family or if he was muggle-born but given that they didn't question who the hell Harry Potter was, and why his name carried any kind of significance, Harry supposed that he probably had at least one Wizarding parent.  
  
"Hey Ron," Ron looked up at Harry, a slice of roast beef raised half way to his mouth and dripping gravy onto his plate below, "Punch Seamus for me." Ron just shrugged, he put down his fork and more than happily gave Seamus a good slog to his upper arm. He hadn't even been paying attention to the conversation, but when his best friend said punch someone Ron was gonna punch someone.  
  
"Ignore him," Ron said to the first year and stepping in as a Prefect, "You don't have to eat at your House table if you have friends in other houses. Excluding the big feasts of course."  
  
"And we're allowed to be friends with Slytherins?" The first year asked, glancing surreptitiously at the table along the far wall. Definitely a Wizarding family then.  
  
"Course you are. Don't believe what everyone says, some of them are alright." From Ron that was a glowing recommendation, certainly a far cry to what he would have said before Harry and Draco had come out to him.  
  
"What were you saying?" Harry turned to Draco, who had already started filling a plate up for himself.  
  
"Hermione and I have come to an agreement." The blonde said again.  
  
"Am I ever gonna see that book again?" Harry asked, he expected the answer to be a solid no.   
  
"You can use the book," Draco reached into his bag and placed the Potions book in front of him, "But, you have to agree to check with Hermione or myself before you use any of the changes in any of the Potions."  
  
"Agreed." Harry was quick to agree, it was a fairly reasonable request after all.  
  
"And we've noticed a few spells written in there, please don't use them until we've practiced them first." Harry put his hand on top of the book to drag it towards himself and Draco's hand fell on top of Harry's before he could move.  
  
"Please Harry. Anything in here could be extremely dangerous." Harry smiled at him reassuringly.  
  
"I promise." Draco smiled at him and allowed Harry to stash the book back in his bag. Harry nudged this thigh against Draco's under the table.   
  
"Sorry I snapped." He apologised, Draco raised an eyebrow  
  
"So you should be!" But his expression softened almost immediately so Harry knew that he was already forgiven, he nudged Harry's knee in return before tucking into his dinner with gusto.


	11. Chapter 11

Over the next couple of weeks Harry's sixth year progressed just how he had expected it to. Their classes were significantly more difficult than they had been last year. Masses of coursework were being piled on them daily and they had to start using their free periods just to keep on top of it all (much to Ron’s displeasure) and seeing Hermione setting up camp in the library for hours at a time wasn't an uncommon sight.  For Harry and Ron a welcome distraction came in the form of the Gryffindor Quidditch try-outs. Several people had already approached Harry, some of them were simply informing him that they were going to try out, others were slightly more ostentatious. Harry had only experienced this level of Quidditch stupidity when he was in his first year. He remembered everyone making claims about their flying prowess in the days before their very first flying lesson, even now Harry would tease Ron about his claim that he had out flown a helicopter.   
  
“Looks like we’ll be here for a while.” Harry said, as he stood at the entrance to the Quidditch pitch with his broom slung over one shoulder, “Good turn out this year.”  
  
“Really Harry?” Draco scoffed, “It amazes me that you still underestimate your popularity.”   
  
“What do you mean?”  
  
“They’re not here to try out, they’re here to see you.” Hermione added, “We’ll sit up there.” She pointed up to the closest stand, close to the large group of students who had gathered to watch the Gryffindor try-outs and promptly rolled her eyes when she realised that most of them weren’t even Gryffindor's.  
  
“He still doesn’t get it does he?” Harry heard Draco ask as they walked away from him.  
  
“Made a mistake letting them two become friends.” Ron said, approaching him from the changing rooms behind him.   
  
“Tell me about it.” If anyone were to tell him at this point last year that Draco Malfoy and Hermione Granger were going to become as thick as thieves in less than twelve months, Harry would probably have them committed to St Mungo's.   
  
“Are you ready for this?” Ron asked, he was looking at the massive gathering of Students who were huddled together in the middle of the pitch. Some of the older students were standing with their own brooms, but most of the younger ones were clutching tight to the unreliable school brooms. Harry had to stop himself from groaning out loud, he’d made it onto the team using one of those brooms after all, it was only fair that he gave everyone a fair chance.  
  
“Not even a little bit.” Harry answered, “But that’s never stopped me before. Come on.” Harry and Ron walked out of the entrance and made their way across the field to where Ginny was attempting to gather everyone into groups.  
  
“Sonorus.” Harry cast at himself.  
  
“Mate, some of them aren’t even Gryffindors.” Ron commented with a small laugh. Harry was glad he had pointed that out, it made his first words as Captain easier to figure out.  
  
“Everyone listen up!” Harry’s voice carried out over the gathered students, “Anyone not in Gryffindor get lost.” Harry watched as at least a quarter of people broke away sniggering and giggling between them. Ron rolled his eyes and Harry tried not to repeat his gesture, trying to be a little bit serious.  
  
“I will only be recruiting a second string Seeker. If you want to be a Seeker and have a problem with that, please leave.” A couple of older students stomped away and that’s when Harry really did roll his eyes, what did they think he was going to do, replace himself?  
  
“I want Beaters over there,” Harry pointed at a random point to his left, “Chasers over there,” Harry pointed towards Ginny’s general direction, “Keepers here, and Seekers there.” The group quickly split themselves into the groups that Harry had pointed out.   
  
He started with asking everyone to fly laps around the stadium, which turned out to definitely be the best decision. A few of the first years couldn’t control the old school brooms and were sent off immediately, along with those who were too scared to fly any higher than twenty feet from the ground. Group by group, and trial by trial, Harry tested them and pushed them, running them through various aerial skills and ball skills until the gathering of students in front of him dwindled to only a handful.  
  
"Right, I'm gonna sort you all into a few teams then we'll have a couple of games against each other so I can see your flying style and see how you work together."  
  
"What if the other team sent spies to see who you've recruited." A fourth year girl chirped up. Having made it through the first few trials had obviously built up her confidence to the point of speaking up.  
  
"Really? Why would they even bother?" Harry’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion.  
  
"I don't think we should start playing until all the other houses have left." Her outcry was met with nods and sounds of assent. Harry just huffed out a sigh of frustration and scrubbed his hand over his face, he'd never had try-outs go on for this long before. He didn’t want to give them what they wanted, and didn’t want them to think that they could push him around if they did make it onto the team, but on the other hand he really wanted to get this team together sooner rather than later. Rather than arguing and drawing it out even longer Harry turned to the stands. He cast another Sonorus.  
  
"If you're not in Gryffindor can you please leave." No one moved, "Leave, or I'll hex you myself!" That seemed to do the trick. Harry watched as various groups of Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs loped away unhappily.  
  
"There. Can you all just get on your brooms and fly now." Harry said in exasperation.  
  
"There's still a Slytherin." One of the guys who was trying out for Beater pointed over Harry's shoulder. Harry didn’t need to turn around; he knew that the only Slytherin in the stands was Draco.  
  
"Guys. Get on your fucking brooms and do some damn flying!" Harry half yelled at them. He wasn't about to send Draco away just because some whiny fourth year didn't want to be watched while they failed. He would send them off the pitch straight away for questioning him if he wasn’t desperate to put a half decent team together. Harry was grateful when they all mounted their brooms and rose into the air. Led by Ron and Ginny the first two teams began a mock Quidditch match while Harry watched from the ground.  
  
"Hello Dear." Came an amused voice from behind him. Draco had descended the stands and had walked across the pitch to stand next to Harry, "I suppose I should thank you for defending my honour?"  
  
"They're nitwits." Harry responded.  
  
"Well obviously, they are Gryffindors after all." Harry scoffed in response, "But I can see that my presence here isn't appreciated so I'm going to go up to the Library."   
  
"You don't have to-" He had nipped the problem in the bud after all and he didn’t think anyone would try to argue him on the matter.  
  
"It's okay, I have work to do anyway. Meet me up there later?"  
  
"Yeah, course."  
  
"In the meantime-" Draco glanced pointedly at the leftover Gryffindor crowd, some of which were still fawning over Harry, giggling when his gaze passed over them and waving to him when they thought they had caught his attention. Draco reached out, grabbed a fistful of Harry's Quidditch jumper and pulled him close, "Let's see how they react to this." Draco murmured, and sealed his mouth over Harry's.  
  
Harry's mouth was full of Draco's tongue. He could hear the blood rushing through his ears and his heart was pounding against his ribs. His eyes had drifted closed the moment Draco’s lips had made contact with his own, which only made it easier for Draco to fully infiltrate his mind with all of his pent up possessiveness. It was fantastic, as it always was when it was the two of them together. But then it was over, too soon in Harry’s opinion. Draco was pulling back with a self satisfied smirk and Harry was rocking back on his heels, slightly dazed.  
  
"I'll see you later." Draco teased and he left the pitch without a backwards glance. It took one of his potential Beaters throwing the bat at another player to get Harry’s attention back on the game.  
  
Draco Malfoy was definitely going to be the death of him.  
  
X  
  
After the try-outs were finished and Harry had managed to assemble a half decent team he legged it up to the Tower. He wanted to shower, change, and stash his broom away before going to meet Draco down in the library.  
  
"Fucking gruelling, wasn't it?" Ron said when he had finally caught up to Harry in their dorm.  
  
"Never known so much stupidity in all my life," Harry commented before he quickly changed his mind, "Never mind, I take that back. I know Dudley Dursley after all." Ron laughed as Harry disappeared through the bathroom door to shower. He only had a quick one, jump in, rinse down, jump out. His hair was still wet when he was pulling his shirt over his head. He fixed it with a simple drying charm. He didn't like to use them normally, it made his already messy hair fluffier and even more difficult to deal with but he didn’t want to be walking through Hogwarts with water dripping down his shirt.  
  
"Off to the library, you coming?" Harry asked Ron, he was being polite more than anything. The redhead had collapsed across the width of his bed, with his arms limply hanging off one side of the mattress and his feet still firmly planted on the ground. All in all, the look of a guy who wasn't about to move anytime soon.  
  
"Nah. Not moving again." Ron grumbled.  
  
"Dinner's soon." Harry reminded him.  
  
"Not moving until Dinner." Ron revised.   
  
"I'll see you later then." Harry left the dorm just as quickly as he had entered it, trying not to let the lethargy set in. He hurried down to the Library and had to stop himself from bursting through the doors at full pelt. Madam Pince would not have been accommodating if the first thing he did was disturb the quiet peace of her domain. Harry spotted Hermione almost immediately. She was the only one sitting at a four person table with half the Library spread out around her. She was flipping back and forth between her notes and various books, obviously in the midst of a very in-depth research session.  
  
"Hermione, hey." Harry sat down opposite her and waited for her to look up. She even held up a finger at him, the universal sign of 'I'll be with you in a minute'. Harry waited, well aware of the repercussions if he were to distract her while she was on a roll.  
  
"I didn't notice you leave the pitch." He said when she finally dropped her finger and was free to look up at him.  
  
"Just after Ron finished trying out. I had to come straight up here, I'm so behind." Her hair was frizzier than usual, like she had been constantly running her hands through it, and Harry wondered just how worried she was getting over their workload. Hermione had always gone above and beyond for her assignments and Harry was starting to worry that she was stretching herself for too thin.  
  
"I bet you're not, don't work yourself too hard okay? I don't want you burning out." She gave him a grateful smile and placed her quill down.  
  
"What are you doing here anyway?" She asked, "I thought you were taking the day off because of Quidditch."  
  
"Oh, I am. I just came to find Draco. Is he somewhere in here?" Harry began to crane his neck around, as though he could magically see through the stacks of bookshelves.  
  
"I haven't seen him since he left the pitch." Hermione said.  
  
"He must have gone down to Slytherin already."  
  
"Or the Great Hall maybe?" Hermione supplied as she checked her watch, it was approaching dinnertime and it wouldn’t be unheard of for Draco to be waiting in the Great Hall, especially if he was with Blaise and Pansy.  
  
"I'll go check. I'll see you in a bit, yeah?"   
  
"Yes."  
  
"And you'll definitely turn up to dinner?" He probed. She had been turning up late to dinner on the weekends, barely making it before the almost empty serving dishes disappeared down to the kitchens.  
  
"Yes, Harry, I'll come down to dinner." Harry patted her on the shoulder and left the Library. He would have to try the Great Hall first, he didn't have his cloak on him so he couldn't sneak into Slytherin and at this point heading back to the Tower to grab the Marauders Map and the cloak would take longer than heading to the Great Hall.  
  
The Great Hall was slowly filling up with students when Harry arrived, he glanced down the Slytherin table but there was no sign of the blonde head of hair that he was searching for. Rather than traipse through the Castle looking for his elusive boyfriend Harry decided to just wait for him there. He was sure that Draco would turn up sooner or later. An hour later Ron and Hermione joined him, but there was still no sign of Draco. Harry continued to look for him, barely listening as Ron finished regaling his spectators with a play by play of all of his spectacular saves during the Quidditch tryouts.  
  
"You should have seen Cormac's last attempt. He was way off, he went in completely the wrong direction, even I could tell which way Ginny was going and I was watching from the ground."   
  
Harry caught Hermione's eye with a smirk. She blushed and ducked her head over her plate, giving the illusion that she was busying herself with her peas. Harry knew exactly why Cormac had dived in the opposite direction. It had nothing to do with his prowess as a Keeper and everything to do with the Confundus that Hermione had cast on him. Harry should have been more bothered about it, but if Cormac had made that save then Harry would have been forced to put him on the team, even though Ron had saved all the goals Cormac was clearly a better and more confident flyer. It wasn't so much that Harry was playing favourites with his friends as it was that Cormac McLaggan was an utter prick.  
  
Harry was finishing his second helping of treacle Tart when Blaise and Pansy entered the Great Hall. Harry had expected Draco to be with them.  
  
"Be right back." Harry murmured to Ron and Hermione. He made his way round to the two Slytherins who had just sat down.  
  
"Have you guys seen Draco?" Harry asked when Pansy turned to greet him, "I thought he might have been with you guys, he wasn't in the Library."  
  
"We thought he was with you." Pansy replied, "That's where he usually is these days. When you find him can you remind him that he has friends as well." Harry felt slightly guilty, he hadn't meant to monopolise Draco's time, they had just gotten so used to being together all the time that it felt weird when they were apart.  
  
"I'll pass on the message." Harry made his way back to Ron and Hermione.  
  
"Alright Harry?" Ron asked, finally snapping out of his Quidditch daze and zoning in to the people around him. Harry suspected that the only person who was still paying attention to him was Lavender Brown (and where the hell had that come from anyway?).  
  
"Yeah, I'm just gonna go see what Draco's up to. I thought he'd be down by now, but if he's buried in a book somewhere he might have lost track of time."  
  
"Alright, see you up in the common room later? Are we still on for Chess?"  
  
"Yeah mate. See you both later." Harry waved a half hearted goodbye and he left the Great Hall.   
  
If Draco hadn't been in the Library and he hadn't been in the Slytherin common room then it was possible he was in the Room of Requirement. Or it's possible he just bounced between the two and managed to miss everyone else. Rather than trudging through the castle all night Harry decided that checking the Marauders Map was the best way to go, and he could grab his invisibility cloak while he was up there just in case Draco was down in Slytherin and his friends hadn't noticed. He sometimes liked to cast silencing charms on his bed to prevent anyone from interrupting him while he studied, it wouldn’t have been impossible for him to go unnoticed for the whole evening.  
  
The trip up to Gryffindor tower seemed to take him ages. It always did whenever there was something he needed to do. The staircases seemed to conspire against him he had to wait ages for them to swing around to where he needed them to be, the shortcuts he usually took were blocked by students, and when he reached the portrait that covered the Gryffindor entrance he came face to face with an empty frame, the Fat Lady had decided that it was the best time to go for a little wander about. By the time she returned there was a nice little gaggle of Gryffindor students waiting for her.  
  
"Alright, alright." She said when about five Gryffindors shouted the password at her, and she glared at them for their impatience as she swung open.  
  
Harry took the dorm stairs two at a time and wasted no time in crossing the dormitory and throwing the lid of his trunk open. It took a minute of digging through broken quills and stained parchment before he found the right one. He realised that he maybe should clean his trunk out a bit more often, Draco would have a heart attack if he saw it.  
  
"I solemnly swear I am up to no good." Harry murmured with a jab of his wand. He spread the map out across his bed and began to search through it to find his wayward boyfriend.  
  
He started with the Slytherin common room, just in case Blaise and Pansy had missed him entirely. But they had been right, he wasn't anywhere down in the dungeons. The Library maybe? But at this hour the only person moving about the dusty shelves was Madam Pince. He avoided looking at the Great Hall, the students were so crowded together that everyone's names overlapped and Harry couldn't make out anything further than a few first names. He checked a couple more spots on the map, the Prefects bathroom, the astronomy tower, their classrooms. But by the process of elimination Harry realised that he must be in the Room of Requirement. It was the only place in Hogwarts that didn't show up on the map.  
  
Getting to the Room of Requirement was significantly easier this year. Last year he always had to loop around a couple of the floors first and take a couple of hidden staircases and corridors to throw off anyone who might have been following him. This year, he could go straight there. It was almost a novelty.  
  
Harry walked back and forth in front of the wall opposite the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy and requested their usual study room. On his third pass the familiar door appeared. The room beyond was exactly as it always was. Big stuffed sofas and armchairs, bookcases standing along the walls, and a large roaring fire heating up the whole room. But no Draco. Harry exited and tried again. He didn't know if the Room of Requirement could even be two things at once but it was worth a try.  
  
"Give me the room Draco asked for." Harry mumbled to himself over and over again. As he finished his third turn he stopped and waited for a door to appear. Nothing happened. Harry tried again, in the hopes that he had just miscounted his steps. But once again, the door never appeared.  
  
"Show me where Draco is." He whispered as he paced. A door finally appeared. But once Harry was through it he didn't know whether the room was being purposely obtuse, or whether he had been too ambiguous in his request. Instead of opening the door to a room, maybe a Potions lab? Or a practice room like the DA used? He stepped through onto, what he suspected, was the second floor corridor. A little further down was the same tapestry that hid the staircase the Gryffindors used to get up to the Tower.  
  
"Why the bloody hell…" Harry tried to turn around to go back into the Room, but the door had closed behind him and disappeared, leaving nothing but a blank wall of rough stone. He tried another method. With his wand flat on his palm Harry said, "Point me Draco." His wand spun to point directly at the outer wall.   
  
Harry huffed. He walked over to the closest window and looked out at the grounds. In the hope that Draco was somewhere out there. If he was being avoided it might be nice to know why. The grounds below were clear. But as Harry shuffled closer to the window the toe of his shoe kicked into something small lying in the shadow of the wall. The object clattered slightly against the stone floor and rolled behind a plinth that stood between two windows. Harry bent down and groped his hand behind the statue to find what he had just kicked. His fingers closed around a piece of wood and he pulled it out so he could see it in the dim light.   
  
It only took Harry a second to recognise exactly what he was holding. The moment he did he felt the bottom of his entire world fall out from underneath him.


	12. Chapter 12

Harry stood in the middle of the second floor corridor with Draco’s wand clutched so tightly in his palm that he was surprised the wood hadn’t splintered in his grip. It was as familiar to him as his own, and the Hawthorn and unicorn hair readily reacted to the familiar warmth of his magic. Draco would never drop his wand somewhere and he would never accidentally misplace it, he had a permanent tethering charm to prevent it from happening. So finding Draco’s wand discarded in the middle of an empty corridor told Harry one very important thing, Draco was missing.  
  
Harry ran back down to the Great Hall, almost tripping over his feet in his haste. Streaming straight past Peeves who was juggling with the heads of the coats of armour, without paying him any mind, ignoring the familiar call of "Potty Potter!" From the poltergeist. Portraits and statues were condensed down to coloured blurs in his peripheral vision as he fought against the burning in his lungs to reach someone who could help him. He almost knocked into Neville and Ginny at the top of the main staircase but he refused to stop until he reached the Entrance Hall, knowing that just beyond the huge double doors was a whole line of Professors who would be able to help him.  
  
“Harry?” Ginny called after him. She exchanged a single pointed look with Neville and without a word they turned on their heels and followed him. Ron and Hermione were exiting the Great Hall when Harry jumped down the last couple of stairs and landed with a heavy thud in front of them, breathless and unable to form a single word. Ginny and Neville came to a skidding stop next to them, looking at Harry with the same level of confusion as Hermione and Ron.  
  
“Harry? What's-” Hermione began to ask, but Harry cut her off by brandishing the wand between them by way of explanation, “That’s not your wand.” She said after a second of eyeing it warily, Harry nodded. He wanted to say the words out loud, but he could feel his jaw trembling and his mouth was refusing to form the words. He only realised his whole body was following suit when the wand he was holding aloft started to shake in his outstretched hand. Hermione’s fingers clasped tightly over his own and she held his hands perfectly still between her own,  
  
“It’s Draco’s wand.” Ron said. Harry didn’t know if Ron recognised it, or if he just knew that only something happening to Draco could push him into this state, either way, Harry was glad that he wouldn't have to explain himself to them. Most other people would never have pegged this particular wand as belonging to Draco Malfoy, they probably would have expected something a little more ornate and stylish from the Malfoy heir, the carved wood wasn't as fancy as others, in fact it was rather plain in its elegance. The wood was two tone, with a dark almost black burnished handle which faded to a more natural colour. The tip was perfectly rounded and the handle tapered to a flat end. It was beautifully polished, Harry knew how much Draco took care of his wand and it gleamed under the soft light in the Entrance Hall. To others it was plain, to Harry it perfectly matched Draco's elegance.  
  
“Oh no.” Hermione whispered.   
  
Harry could feel the tremble work it’s way down his body until his legs began to shake and his knees began to fail him.   
  
Draco was missing. Draco was missing.  
  
It didn’t seem to matter how many times he said it to himself, it still wasn’t hitting home.  
  
Draco could be dead.  
  
“Come on Harry, sit down here.” Neville guided him backwards and urged him to sit on the bottom step of the staircase with a heavy hand on his shoulder. Harry sat down gratefully and propped his elbows on his knees so that he could cradle his head in his hands and draw in deep breaths.  
  
“Where was it?” Hermione asked gently.  
  
“Second floor,” Harry said into his hands, “He said he was going to the Library.”  
  
“Which means he’s been missing since…” Ron tried to calculate it but he wasn’t exactly sure when Draco had left the pitch.  
  
“Six hours.” Harry murmured into his hands he had checked the time before he had started the mock games with the potentials, “He’s been missing for six hours and I had no idea.”  
  
“Don’t you dare blame yourself Harry!” Ginny said. She sat next to him on the step and rubbed his back, looking wide eyed at Hermione and Ron almost begging them to figure something out. They weren’t used to Harry being in this state. Harry didn’t usually shut down, he got angry and pissed off and he damn near always wanted to fight his way out of any situation that was put in front of him.  
  
“Let’s try…” Hermione pulled her own wand out, "Prior Incantato." It only indicated that the last spell to be cast was a minor warming charm, “He used that when we were down at the pitch.” Hermione said, looking up at Harry and gnawing on her bottom lip, finally allowing herself to be worried. Draco was a highly skilled Wizard and he’d disappeared without even having the chance to cast a spell to defend himself.  
  
“Someone got the jump on him then?” Ron asked, it wouldn’t be the first time Draco had been jumped inside the Castle. Only last year Warrington had attacked him and had been kicked out of the school for it, and even earlier than that he had been the victim of a particularly powerful cutting curse which almost killed him. Being surrounded by Death Eater children, and people who believed he was a traitor hadn’t been good for his wellbeing.  
  
“Can you feel anything from him?” Hermione asked.  
  
“No,” He realised he couldn’t actually remember the last time he had felt Draco in his mind, “But that’s not all that unusual, he told me he was going to study and he usually blocks me out when he’s trying to concentrate. I didn’t even think about it.” Harry fisted his hands in his hair, “I didn’t even think about it.” He whispered to himself again as he tried not to beat himself up about it. It certainly felt like he was to blame, he should have noticed something earlier.  
  
“Is he…” Neville hesitated in asking the difficult question that everyone else seemed to be skirting around, “Alive?”   
  
Harry had only allowed it to be a passing thought. He’d been working on the basis that Draco was missing. Not that Draco was dead. He was sure he would have felt it. What would be the point in being Soulmates, and being as connected as thoroughly they were if he couldn’t even feel if his Soulmate was dead? Harry closed his eyes, he took a deep breath to attempt to calm himself and searched for that connection in his mind. That little hint of  _ something _ that told Harry he wasn’t alone. The connection was still there and it seemed intact, but it was dormant. Silent. Harry didn’t know how it worked exactly, and there hadn’t been a great amount of research in the area for them to look into, but if Draco was dead then Harry would expect their connection to be broken in some way.  
  
“He’s alive. I-I think he’s alive.” Harry said, he looked up at his friends in desperation, “I need him to be alive.”  
  
“We should go to Dumbledore.” Hermione said finally, after a moment of silence had passed between them as they all considered the repercussions of Draco not being quite as alive as Harry wanted him to be.  
  
“He’s not here.” Harry said quietly, he remembered not seeing Dumbledore's name on the Marauders Map.  
  
“McGonagall then.” Hermione suggested. Harry pointed to the Great Hall in response. McGonagall was in the middle of dinner like the rest of the school.  
  
“I’ll go. Wait here.” Hermione slipped back through the double doors, leaving Harry sitting on the steps between Neville and Ginny, with Ron hovering over all three of them protectively. She strode confidently down the centre of the hall without anyone paying her too much attention, it was only when she took the two steps up to the raised Professors table that people started to glance surreptitiously in her direction. She approached McGonagall directly, the older Witch raised her eyebrows and pursed her lips as Hermione leaned over the table, getting as close to McGonagall as she dared. All Harry could see through the open door was Hermione’s back, and her bushy hair which completely concealed the Professors expression. Hermione only spoke for a minute and McGonagall's response must have been short and to the point, because it wasn't long before she was turning on her heel and walking back up the length of the Great Hall, with no small amount of interest from the student body. Behind Hermione, Harry watched McGonagall rise from her seat silently, she made her way behind the Professors and exited through the door located behind the head table. That’s when the whispers started. The student population, while a little silly at times, weren’t completely dim. If Hermione Granger was involved in something that needed the Deputy Heads attention then they knew that Harry Potter was involved too, and  _ that _ was usually cause for concern.   
  
“This way you three.” McGonagall appeared from a half hidden side door and walked past them, leading them back up the stairs, "Miss Weasley, Mr Longbottom, best for both of you to go about your evening." Ginny and Neville stood up from Harry’s side and rather unwillingly stepped to one side so the Professor could sweep past them.   
  
“Professor-” Harry began.  
  
“In a moment Potter, I believe privacy is the key here.” Harry snapped his mouth shut with a click and followed her up the stairs. He gripped Draco’s wand to his chest like a lifeline. They were silent until they reached her office and Harry, Ron and Hermione came to a halt in front of her desk. Harry thought back to the many times that they had been in this position in the past, more than once they  had been sent away and told not to worry and not to get involved, he hoped that this time would be different.   
  
“Explain.” McGonagall rounded her desk and sat down in her chair. Harry began to speak.  
  
“The Gryffindor try-outs were early this afternoon, Draco left the pitch and he told me he was going to study. I tried looking for him after the try-outs and after dinner but I couldn’t find him,” He contemplated telling her about the map but decided that it would definitely be confiscated if he did, “I found his wand on the floor of the second floor corridor. I think he must have been on his way to the library.”  
  
“The last spell he cast was just a warming charm.” Hermione added.  
  
“We think he might have been attacked from behind.” Ron chimed in.  
  
“Attacked?” McGonagall questioned with raised eyebrows, “May I see the wand please?” Harry handed it to her rather reluctantly, “And we are sure this is Mr Malfoy’s?”  
  
“A hundred percent.” Harry said quickly, “We’ve been able to use each other's wands since the Ministry.” McGonagall nodded slowly as she inspected it from every angle.  
  
“Is there anyone who might know where Mr Malfoy could have gone? I expect you’ve checked all the possible places?” She asked. Harry wanted to snap at her, shout at her, tell her that they didn’t have time for this, they needed to start the search immediately, but he knew that she was just trying to gather as much information as possible, so he bit back his anger and tried to answer her in an even tone.  
  
“Yes Professor.”  
  
“Okay. This is what we are going to do. I want all three of you to go back to the Gryffindor Common room, I’d like you to keep this to yourselves for now. I don’t want the whole school to know that a student has gone missing off the premises, with the current political climate I believe that this will cause a great deal of panic. I will inform Mrs Malfoy, and the Order and I will call Professor Dumbledore back to the school. In the meantime I will ask the house elves to search every corner of the castle, just in case this is a misunderstanding.”  
  
“Yes Professor.” Hermione said immediately.  
  
“Rest assured Harry,” Harry looked up at her and she was looking at him kindly across the desk, “We will do everything we can to locate Mr Malfoy.”  
  
“Will you keep me informed?” Harry asked, he might be able to keep himself out of trouble if he knew that the Professors were going to keep him in the loop. Not knowing would be the worst thing.  
  
“I will keep you informed, if you promise to keep me informed.” She looked over her glasses at him knowingly, looking so much like Dumbledore that Harry couldn’t forget who her mentor was.  
  
“I will Professor, anything to get Draco back in one piece.”  
  
“Off with you all now,” She passed the wand back to Harry and smiled at them kindly, “Please don’t rush into anything.” Harry nodded and left the office with Ron and Hermione. He stashed Draco’s wand in the inside pocket of his robe, next to his own.  
  
“We should tell Blaise and Pansy.” Harry said suddenly when they were barely at the end of the corridor, he realised that if anyone was going to notice Draco’s disappearance it would be his friends.  
  
“Professor McGonagall said-”  
  
“I know Hermione, but they're his friends and they’ll notice something before long. We only need to tell them.”  
  
“It’ll be useful to have eyes inside Slytherin,” Ron said, “Let's be honest, if anyone’s going to be behind this it’s going to be a Slytherin.”  
  
X  
  
“Are you serious?” Pansy snapped.  
  
“Yes.” Harry said lifelessly.  
  
“Draco’s gone missing? From inside the castle?” She snapped again.  
  
“Yes.” He repeated lamely. Unable to offer her any more information than that simple fact.  
  
“And we’re supposed to…What? Sit down and shut up about it?”  
  
“You’re not supposed to know at all, and if you say anything we’ll all be kept in the dark from here on out. So you need to keep it under the radar until we know more.” Harry argued.  
  
“How could you even consider just sitting back while-!” Her tirade was cut off instantly.  
  
“I KNOW!” Harry yelled, “I know! I fucking know!” His chest heaved heavily at his outburst and the Slytherin girl took an aborted step back at Harry’s anger, while Blaise took a step forward and his hand twitched towards his wand. When Harry next spoke his voice was slightly calmer.  
  
“My goddamn Soulmate is in danger, you think I don’t want to rip the entire castle apart? Do you think I want to stay here when I know he’s out there, defenceless?” Pansy was speechless. She hadn’t expected the outburst when Harry had seemed so calm and put together.  
  
“You didn’t look like you were affected.” She said quietly, “I’m sorry, it’s just that he’s...He’s my best friend.” She looked at him with wide scared eyes and Harry had to remember they were all in this situation together.  
  
“I just have far too much experience with my friends and family being in imminent danger. I can hide it well.” Harry said, looking to Ron and Hermione who exchanged knowing glances.  
  
“We’ll keep it quiet.” Blaise finally spoke for the two of them.  
  
“We could use your help to keep an eye on the Slytherins, if one of them is in on it they might let something slip."  
  
  
“We’ll keep our eyes and ears open.” Blaise nodded firmly, “It’s the least we could do. Just...Keep us posted? Please?” Harry nodded, it was probably the first and last time that he would ever hear Blaise say please.  
  
“We should go, McGonagall expects us to be in the Tower.” Hermione said.  
  
“We’ll see you soon. I’ll let you know if anything changes.”  
  
Harry left the unused classroom with Ron and Hermione and he patted the pocket that held the two wands for what seemed to be the hundredth time, just to remind himself that Draco's wand was still there and still safe, just waiting for him to return.


	13. Chapter 13

Over the next few days the hardest thing Harry had to come to terms with, apart from the lack of Draco in his life, was the lack of Draco in his mind. He was so used to those little everyday emotions floating through their connection that he found his days empty without them. He missed Draco’s frustration in the morning when his hair wouldn’t do exactly what he wanted it to do, his sudden shock when the shower went from warm to freezing, his annoyance with the House-Elves when his trousers weren’t perfectly pressed. Harry could go on, he could list every single moment in the day where Draco’s little emotions had infiltrated his mind and made him chuckle. But now he couldn’t feel anything from him and it felt so wrong, sixteen years of feeling his own emotions and in the space of just a few months he’d become dependent on someone else entirely. Fucking hell, he missed Draco so much.  
  
Harry went to all of his lessons religiously, but the content wasn’t exactly sinking in. He spent the hours staring at the empty seat next to him, drifting in and out of awareness as the Professors lectured. He made sure to go to every breakfast, lunch and dinner, and was one of the first to arrive but one of the last to leave. He didn’t want to admit that there was a little niggle in the back of his brain that was telling him maybe Draco would turn up one day. Maybe Harry would go down to breakfast and Draco would be sitting at the Slytherin table eating his usual breakfast. Or he’d walk into Potions and Draco would be organising his ingredients. It was a vague hope, but if it got him up and out of bed in the morning then who was he to deny himself?  
  
"Here Harry, copy this." Hermione handed him a completed paragraph for their latest Transfiguration essay. He had already made an attempt at it but his usual chicken scratch handwriting had turned illegible halfway along. His reasoning was muddled and his theory was just plain wrong, or so Hermione had said when she'd checked it. He hadn't been paying too much attention, the table they were sitting at in the Library was right next to a window and Harry couldn't stop himself from glancing down at the long path that led from the main entrance and out of sight towards the front gate. As though Draco was about to come striding towards the castle, with his robes billowing about in the wind and his hands stuffed deep into his pockets.  
  
"Hm?" He looked at Hermione slightly dazed, "Oh. Yeah okay." Harry picked up his long since discarded quill and began to copy the short paragraph that she had written for him. Out of the corner of his eye Ron had opened his mouth to complain but he snapped it shut at a single pointed look from Hermione. Harry saw all of this, but he didn't care enough to comment.   
  
A gust of wind made the Whomping Willow shudder and the movement had Harry's eyes drifting back out of the window. He followed the long line of trees at the forest edge, and a thought came to him, unbidden and unwanted, maybe Draco was somewhere in there? Harry hoped to God he wasn’t, he’d encountered his fair share of Beasts in the Forbidden Forest and he knew that he had only scratched the surface of the potential horrors hidden amongst the trees.  
  
"Harry, come on, you're almost there. Two sentences for that part and then you've only got three more inches to fill." Hermione gently urged, bringing his attention back to the here and now.  
  
"Hm?" Harry moved his quill away from the parchment, preventing the ink from dripping across his work any more than it had already, "Right." He dragged his eyes away from the window and forced himself to finish copying the paragraph.   
  
She was treating him with kid gloves, Ron was too, he would usually have kicked off by now and told them not to treat him like a child. But he couldn't find it within himself to care too much. He expected that he was failing his assignments, he'd completely given up trying to use non-verbal spells during class, which had been a requirement since the second week of term. His latest Defence essay was copied almost word for word half from books and half from Hermione, and he had no doubt Snape would refuse to even mark it, and his Charms essay had been a good five inches shorter than it should have been. The only subject he wasn't failing was Potions, and that was only because of the helpful hints that were written in the old Potions book he was using. He could understand why people enjoyed Potions now, when all you needed to do was follow a specific set of written instructions without having to think about it. Hermione had tried to scold him for using the book without Draco around to check the changes like they had agreed upon, but the mention of Draco had Harry's attention drifting away halfway through her speech and she had quickly given up.   
  
By now all the Professors knew about Draco's disappearance. For the most part they were giving Harry a little bit of leeway when it came to his written work, especially those who knew just how connected they were. All except Snape, who sneered at Harry's daydreaming and his clumsiness and took points every time he verbalised a spell, or handed in a failing piece of work. Harry should have cared about that. But he didn't. He just felt...Empty, and cold. It had seeped into his body from the moment he had found out about Draco's disappearance, and Harry could feel it sinking deeper and deeper into his very soul with every day that Draco was missing.  
  
“Harry.” He was sitting in the common room, staring blankly at Ron, Seamus, Dean and Neville, who were playing Exploding Snap. They had invited him to play but he had waved them away and sat on the sidelines, huddling close to the fire to try and get some warmth back in his limbs. Hermione approached him from behind and placed a gentle hand on his upper arm, over the past few days she had learnt not to talk to him until she had gained his full attention, if he wasn't looking at her chances were he wasn't hearing anything she was saying.   
  
“Hermione?” He asked, trying to work out why she was standing next to him, chewing on her bottom lip and looking worried.  
  
“How are you feeling Harry?” She perched on the arm of the chair next to him, and he shifted slightly to one side to make room for her.  
  
“I don’t know.” He responded, "I'm not feeling much of anything at the moment."  _ He felt empty _ .  
  
“Do you want to talk about anything?” She asked carefully.  _ No.  
  
_ “I don’t think I have anything to say.”  _ You wouldn't understand _ . She wrapped her arm around his shoulders and sat with him in silence as Ron dealt the next round of cards.  
  
"They will find him." She assured him after a few moments of silence, "He's going to be fine, they'll find him Harry." She said it with a conviction that Harry didn't have the energy to muster anymore.  
  
X  
  
Harry was on the second floor corridor once again, he was sitting with his back to the outer wall, half hidden from view by the stone plinth that held the ugly bust of some kind of Witch, or Wizard, maybe it was a Hag? He was sitting in the exact spot where he had found Draco's discarded wand. He was sure that it was approaching curfew but he made no effort to move. He had found himself being drawn there over the past week. This was the last place Draco had been and he couldn't help feeling some kind of connection to it. He rolled Draco’s wand between his fingers absentmindedly.   
  
From where he was sitting he could see the portraits a little further down the corridor, maybe around ten feet from the place he was sitting. The Professors had spoken to almost all of the portraits in the Castle and not one of them saw anything out of the ordinary. Harry didn't know how that was possible, how could someone be attacked and transported out of Hogwarts without anyone seeing anything? Not the portraits, the house-elves, or the ghosts. It seemed almost impossible.  
  
He looked down at the map that sat unfolded across his knees. He had been checking it constantly. Dipping into empty classes between lessons, disappearing into the depths of the library during Hermione's study sessions, spreading it out across his bed day and night. He was obsessing over the minute trails of footprints going back and forth across the pages as students and professors went about their days. He was always focused on the Slytherin common room of course, and he watched the Castle's entrances and exits religiously, even the ones that no one else could possibly know about. But there was still no sign of suspicious behaviour.   
  
Movement on the map drew his eye to the corridor he was on. The tiny printed name quickly approached him and he leaned out from behind the statue so they knew he was there.  
  
"Harry!" He looked up to see Neville running down the corridor towards him, "I've been looking for you."  
  
"Hey Nev." Harry's tone was flat and monotonous.   
  
"McGonagall sent me to find you," Harry perked up very slightly, news of Draco perhaps? "She said Dumbledore’s back and waiting for you in his office." Not news, not the news he desperately wanted anyway, but this was good. Dumbledore being back meant progress could be made.  
  
Harry quickly folded up the map, after a quick glance confirmed that Dumbledore was indeed pacing back and forth across his office (how had he not noticed that already) and pushed himself to his feet. With a quick “ _ Thanks Neville _ ” he was sprinting away from the other Gryffindor, heading straight for the staircase shortcut that would take him the closest to Dumbledore’s office. Harry skidded to a stop outside the gargoyle entrance and wasted no time in panting out the password. He barely waited for the statue to move to one side before he was slipping through the gap it made and striding to the top of the stairs, ignoring the way the stairs were moving like an escalator under his feet. Harry knocked once before throwing the heavy door open and stepping through, he hadn't even waited for Dumbledore to respond.  
  
“Professor?”  
  
“Harry, please come in.” Dumbledore gestured to the spindly chair in front of his desk, as though he was fairly accustomed to Students demanding an audience with him.  
  
“I want to start by saying I am sorry that once again this school has failed to protect Mr Malfoy.” Harry nodded in thanks because he didn’t trust his voice to stay steady, “I have used all the connections at my disposal and I have members of the Order searching every suspected Death Eater property, but I’m afraid as of yet we have not been able to locate Mr Malfoy.” Harry could only stare blankly at the spinning instruments that sat on Dumbledore’s desk, he couldn’t even look up to meet the Headmasters eyes. He could feel Dumbledore regarding him closely behind half moon glasses as he rested his chin on the tips of his steepled fingers.  
  
“Harry,” At the utterance of his name Harry finally looked up to meet his gaze, “You have a very remarkable connection to Mr Malfoy, if there is anyway that you can communicate to him-”  
  
“I’ve tried.” Harry interrupted, “I’ve tried everything.”  
  
“I’m sorry if it sounded like I was suggesting that you hadn’t.” Dumbledore apologised. Harry nodded once, and stared back down at the silver instruments, “We will do everything we can... _ I _ will do everything I can, to bring Mr Malfoy back to Hogwarts.”  
  
“Thank you Sir.” Harry hesitated for a moment, “Do you have any idea why he might have been taken?”  
  
“No. I have theories, but nothing concrete. In the coming days if you find yourself remembering anything that could help our search please come to me.”  
  
  
“I will Sir.” Harry scuffed his shoe against the floor.  
  
“Is there anything you need to talk to me about Harry?” Last year Harry had shrugged off the question, he had been annoyed at Dumbledore for hiding things from him and pissed off that he had allowed someone like Umbridge into the school. If the past year had told him anything, it was that Dumbledore was not infallible and he couldn't expect the Professors around him to help if he wasn't being honest with them.   
  
“I feel…” Harry trailed off, Fawkes shifted on his perch and Harry’s eyes were drawn to the beautiful red and gold bird. His plumage was full and bright and his beady eyes were trained on Harry as though he could read him as well as his Master.  
  
“Harry?” Dumbledore brought his attention back to the present moment.  
  
“I feel alone.” Harry said finally, “I feel empty. Is that normal?” Dumbledore didn’t answer so Harry continued to talk, “I’ve only had Draco in my head for a few months and I became so dependent on him being there and then suddenly he isn’t anymore. No one else seems to understand.” Dumbledore took a long moment to answer and Harry waited patiently for him to gather his thoughts on the subject.  
  
“Your relationship isn’t just a passing folly or a fleeting teenage romance, unlike most of your peers. Mr Malfoy and yourself are connected by something much stronger.” Dumbledore took a sherbet lemon from the silver bowl on his desk, “From your very first year I knew you had such a great capacity for Love, but not even I could have imagined that you would find yourself being lucky enough to find the other half of your Soul.”  
  
“You believe in that Sir?” Harry looked at him curiously, “The whole half soul thing?” In their research they had found explanations to be rather more fantasy based than others, some said they were a shared soul split in half, some said it was no more than extreme magical compatibility. Either way, their connection couldn't be denied.  
  
“Whether or not I believe has no bearing on whether it is true or not. It is magic at its most powerful, and magic chose you for this gift.”   
  
“It doesn’t feel like a gift right now.”  
  
“No, I suppose not.” Dumbledore agreed.  
  
“Sometimes I think…” Harry paused and swallowed heavily as he found himself putting into words the one thing that he couldn’t say to his friends, “I think that magic gave me Draco so that I would know what it was like to lose someone. So when the time came to face Voldemort I would fight harder.”  
  
“I’m sorry you feel this way, Harry. I am sorry that such a weight has been put on you from such an early age. I daresay that you deserved so much more from those of us in your life who could have protected you from it.”  
  
“Do you think we’ll find him alive?” Harry asked, “I don’t want you to lie, or exaggerate or anything. In your honest opinion and from all of your experience with Voldemort, do you honestly think we’ll find Draco alive? Because I’m starting to doubt and I need to know what to prepare myself for.” Dumbledore folded his hands on top of the desk, looking every bit the old and wizened man that he was. Harry had never seen Dumbledore wear his age on his sleeve so obviously as he did now.  
  
“I do not know. Voldemort is not a sane person, his mind is twisted and corrupt. I think our best hope is that he needs Mr Malfoy for something, if that is the case he will be kept alive.”  
  
“Until his usefulness has run its course.” Harry added.  
  
“I can only hope that we locate and extract him before that time comes. Expect the best Harry, but do not prevent yourself from preparing for the worst.” Dumbledore paused, as though he was thinking about something of great importance, “I think, for the time being, we should postpone our meetings. However, I must stress upon you how important I believe they are, but I can see that you are going through great emotional upheaval so we will return to them at a later date.”  
  
“Thank you Sir.” And he truly was thankful, because the last thing that was on his mind right now was the confusing trips down memory lane to figure out Voldemort's past. He would give it a hard pass for a little while.


	14. Chapter 14

He was getting antsy. It was coming up to two weeks, September had passed and they were now firmly into the first week of October, and Harry was just itching to do something. He was tired of the sympathetic looks he was getting from the rest of the student body, nobody was talking about it to him but he wasn’t stupid, nor was he deaf. They were wondering where Draco Malfoy had gone, whether he had run away from the school because he was running away from Voldemort? Or whether he was running towards Voldemort? And why wasn’t Harry or his friends talking about him anymore? Harry knew they wouldn’t understand even if he tried to explain it to them. He couldn’t tell them that even the mention of Draco’s name made him feel like his whole world had ended.  
  
“Harry?” He was currently sitting in front of the fire, it was his favourite spot these days and none of the Gryffindor's dared to argue with him. He was cold, he was always cold, and it didn’t seem to matter how long he sat in front of the fire for because the moment he moved he felt like there was ice in his veins.  
  
“Hm?” He looked up, to find Ron standing over him.  
  
“I know you’re going through a lot mate, but the team was asking…” Ron trailed off into silence.  
  
“What?” Harry asked in a monotone and turned back to stare into the slowly depleting fire.  
  
“If we were going to have our first Quidditch practice soon?” Harry could tell he had tried to put off asking him as long as possible, but he also didn't want to step on Harry's toes and do it himself. Ron was a good friend.  
  
“Yeah, I’ll see if the pitch is free next Saturday.” His response was monotonous, and Ron didn't try and question him on anything else, he just clapped him on the shoulder and ended the contact with a quick squeeze of reassurance.  
  
“It’s gonna be okay Harry.”  
  
“Is it?” He asked. Harry felt Ron remove his hand and walk away, but he didn’t go far.  
  
“He’s not doing too well Hermione.” He heard Ron say from behind him, “If we don’t get word soon I don’t know what he’ll do.”  
  
“I’m worried about him.” Came Hermione’s reply. He desperately wanted to turn around and talk to them. He wanted to reassure them that he was alright, or that he would be alright eventually. He just needed time.  He had spent hours trying to remember the days before Draco’s disappearance. Dumbledore had asked him if there had been any suspicious activity and he truly couldn’t remember, he didn’t think so. Even though they had spent a lot of time together he wasn't glued to Draco's side all the time, he could have been threatened by someone in Slytherin and just not mentioned it. Or he could have received any manner of threatening note or letter and Harry wouldn’t have been any the wiser.   
  
“I’m going for a walk.” Harry stood up suddenly and turned to face his friends who were still standing behind him whispering to each other, with their heads bent together conspiratorially. They looked up at him in shock, but didn't question him when he turned and exited the common room without a backwards glance.  
  
He headed down to the dungeons using the most direct route possible, and pulled the invisibility cloak around himself as he approached the blank wall that would lead him to the Slytherin common room. It took him a second to tap into his Parselmouth abilities, and a polite “ _ please open _ ” had the wall shifting to one side to allow him entrance. It wasn’t quite late enough for everyone to be back in the common room for the evening, but it also wasn’t early enough for students to be wandering around the castle and sitting out in the grounds. So when he entered the common room it took a fair amount of flexibility to dodge the various students who were wandering around. He didn’t hesitate there, too wary of being bumped into and found out, so he quickly made his way down to the sixth year dormitory.   
  
Blaise was the only one in there, which Harry was extremely grateful for, and the darker boy just raised his eyebrow at the door opening and closing seemingly by itself. He wasn’t blind, he knew that Harry Potter had some way of getting around the castle, and he had seen Draco use the invisibility cloak often enough to know exactly who had just entered his dorm room.  
  
“Potter.” Blaise greeted when Harry finally showed himself.  
  
“I just wanted to look through some of Draco’s stuff.” Harry said.  
  
“Feel free. I have already looked through everything.”  
  
“I know. I just...Wanted to make sure.” Harry sat down on Draco’s bed as he spoke. The sheets were clean and neat, with the edges tucked in nicely, and his pillows were plump and unused. But his scent still lingered in the clean sheets and Harry took a moment to bask in it. He closed his eyes and breathed deeply, allowing it to fill his senses. If he didn’t turn around he could almost imagine Draco laid across the bed behind him, flipping through one of the healing books or doing the required reading for one of his classes. He could imagine the content feeling in his mind, the slight flicker of interest whenever he came across something new. He could imagine the shock of white blonde hair in his peripheral vision, where Draco would have his back resting against the headboard, and the heat against his back, where Draco would have his legs bent and propped against Harry to keep his book in place.  
  
“Alright Potter?” Blaise asked with a concerned frown. They weren’t friends and he shouldn’t care. It’s only that...they sort of were. Draco’s disappearance had the three Gryffindor's and the two Slytherins banding together more often.  
  
“No.” Harry said honestly, but he didn’t offer anything else.  
  
He went to Draco’s trunk and opened the lid. It was much cleaner than his own and much bigger too, with the inside obviously expanded to suit his needs. There was a neat folded stack of casual clothes in one corner and his school books in the other corner, with the new ones stacked on top of the old and he had a fancy trunk organiser that kept his quills neat, and his ink protected. Harry had seen inside before, and he had watched Draco pack a few times now, but he hadn’t ever been this close. He ran his hand over Draco’s shirts and he could remember how it felt to fist his fingers in the material at Draco’s slim waist, and tug him close to his body, until they couldn’t be sure who began and who ended. He could remember the rough material of his dark trousers as Harry unthreaded his belt and ran his hands down Draco's thighs. The memory was so strong that he had to force himself to pull his hands away and focus on something else. So well organised was the rest of the trunk that Harry knew he wouldn’t find anything useful in there.  
  
He moved on to Draco’s bedside table and opened the drawer. This wasn’t quite as neat as his trunk had been. The journal was nestled in there amongst quills and a couple bottles of ink, and shoved right to the back was his Memory Orb. Harry picked it up. It was almost exactly the same as his own, except for the gold band that circled it, in comparison to the silver band that his own had. Harry rolled it between his hands, staring into the swirling depths as the warmth of it seeped into his cold palms. He quickly pocketed it and shut the drawer, leaving everything else as it was. He didn’t quite know what he had expected, maybe that the drawer would hold some sort of threatening letter, that could tell Harry exactly where Draco was? He knew he wouldn’t have found anything of the sort though, Blaise was right, he and Pansy had searched through Draco’s belongings a week ago, hoping for the same thing.  
  
Harry stared at the bedside table. It looked almost untouched. Like Draco had simply woke up that morning and gone to his lessons without a care in the world. There was a self inking quill sitting next to an alarm clock that Harry knew Draco didn’t even use, and his green and silver Slytherin scarf was folded neatly next to it. Harry couldn’t stop himself from picking it up and wrapping it around his own neck. Not too long ago he had worn this very scarf to cheer Draco on during the last Quidditch game of the season, a game which Draco had caught the Snitch in. Speaking of Quidditch, Harry ran his hand across the black wood of Draco’s Nimbus 2001 that was leaning against the wall next to his bed. It was shiny and clean, used only once that year for the Slytherin Quidditch try-outs, where Draco had once again been awarded the position of Seeker. Harry didn’t know why he hadn’t just gone for Chaser since he said himself that he was better in that position, Draco had simply shrugged and said that it meant he had to work with other people, and that was something he wasn’t very good at. Quidditch, yet another thing Draco would miss out on.  
  
“Find anything?” Blaise’s question pulled Harry out of his mind, forcing him back into the here and now. Where there was no Draco.  
  
“No.” Harry said, and Blaise chose not to comment on the scarf around his neck, “I’m gonna go.”  
  
“See you later.”   
  
X  
  
Harry tapped his wand on the Orb for the third time and he watched the next memory.  
  
_ “I’m sorry.” _ He watched himself say, seeing the moment from Draco’s point of view was interesting, Harry looked at him like Draco was his entire world, like his Father used to look at his Mother.  
  
_ “I made you promises and I broke all of them.” _ He had said,  _ “I love you.” _   
  
The memory ended and Harry stared at the Orb. He hadn’t taken it to relive the greatest moments of their relationship. He had hoped that Draco would have put any memory involving some kind of threat into the Orb. But there weren’t any recent memories and Harry found himself re-watching the same ones over and over again. It wasn’t helping his mood. Although, nothing really helped his mood these days. All it did was make his heart ache and his head hurt.  
  
The dormitory door opened and quiet footsteps crossed the room. Harry didn’t need to look up to see who it was. He’d spent long enough around Hermione to be able to pick apart her steps from anyone else's. She sat on his bed, and swung her legs up until she was reclined next to him, shoulder to shoulder with her back against the headboard.  
  
“You went down to Slytherin?” She asked, but she didn’t need an answer, the scarf that was still wrapped around his neck was enough of an indication, “Did you find anything?” Harry shook his head.  
  
“I’m worried about you.” She murmured into the silence of the room. Her words hung in the air between them.   
  
Harry took a second to think about his answer, finally settling on a concise, “I know.” He turned to look at her, “I’m sorry.”  
  
“You don’t have to be sorry,” She said and her hand found his, “You’re going through a lot. You’re always going through a lot, but this...This is more than anything you’ve ever had to get through.” Harry nodded, “I’m here for you, and so is Ron, whatever you need.” He only needed Draco. But instead of saying that he just squeezed her hand a little tighter and shifted a little closer and to borrow her warmth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My ability to write angst is something I'm trying to develop through the course of this fic. It isn't something I've ever done before, so I hope my writing is hitting the mark in these next few chapters and doing what I intend for it to do. It's definitely testing my abilities haha. A couple of chapters on the shorter side before the good stuff really starts :)
> 
> Thanks for being wonderful and sticking with me.


	15. Chapter 15

Harry woke up the next morning feeling just as defeated as he had the day before. The dull light that filtered into the dormitory was hazy and barely bright enough to illuminate the still dark room. It wasn't the first time in the past two weeks that Harry had been thankful that it wasn't bright sunshine outside. Sun made people happy, and Harry couldn't deal with happy right now. He threw his arm out to grope for his wand on the bedside table, groggy from the short sleep he had been granted, but his fingers reached Draco's wand first. He had been using them interchangeably since he had found it, if anyone other than Ron and Hermione had noticed they hadn't said anything.   
  
He cast a quick Tempus but it was interrupted by a wide yawn. The sparks that erupted from the end of Draco’s wand weren't what he had intended. But he supposed that's what he deserved for trying to cast anything being as tired as he was. He supposed it really didn't matter what time it was anyway, it wasn't like he was going to be able to go back to sleep anytime soon. With that thought Harry dragged himself from the bed and loped into the bathroom while rubbing his eyes and trying not to trip over Seamus's trainers.  
  
After a hot shower, which Harry cranked up to heat the bone deep chill that had settled deep into his body, Harry went down to breakfast. He grabbed his school bag as he went, maybe he would be able to conjure enough energy to finish the Charms essay that was due that day. He still wasn’t doing too well with all the school work but at least he was starting to put in more of an effort. If Draco came he wouldn’t be very happy if Harry was failing all of his subjects.  
  
Not if.   
When.  
When Draco came back.  
  
It was still early, the gold plates and glass goblets that lined the tables were bare and free from any of the breakfast foods that would grace their surfaces in an hour or two. Harry just found himself sitting down at the Gryffindor table, staring up at the ceiling which showed a sleepy sunlight desperately trying to pierce through the foggy atmosphere.  
  
“Augumenti.” Harry cast. He had intended on filling up one of the goblets in front of him but all that appeared was a thin trickle of water pooling in the bottom of the glass.  
  
“Augumenti.” He cast again, with a confused furrow on his brow, the water doubled. But it was still hardly a mouthful. It wasn’t a spell he’d ever had trouble with before, but he supposed that the lack of sleep and his general run-down state was having some sort of an affect on his magic. So he gave up on the spell and tried to bury himself into his essay. He was pretty sure it would sort itself out by the time he woke up properly. As the first few students started to come into the hall Harry was just finishing up the last couple of inches of the three foot essay. It probably wasn’t any good, and he was sure he had repeated himself towards the end, but at least it was done and he had something to hand in.  
  
“Harry, we wondered where you were.” Hermione said as she and Ron joined him at the table.  
  
“Worried I’d gone to find Draco myself?” He said blandly. By their guilty expressions he had hit the nail on the head, “Don’t worry, I’m not running off anywhere. I wouldn’t even know where to go.”  
  
“You finished the Charms essay?” Hermione asked, she sounded a little impressed with him. He could see why, he hadn’t finished a single essay by himself in the past two weeks.  
  
“Not much good, but yeah, done.” He really was trying to make an effort to pull himself back together. Not succeeding just yet, but he was going to keep trying until he did.  
  
“Do you want me to…?” She gestured to the parchment that Harry was rolling up and tucking back into his bag.  
  
“Nah, I know it’s shit. I wouldn’t want you to have an aneurysm over it.”  
  
X  
  
As it turned out, the problem with his magic wasn’t sorting itself out. In Transfiguration he hadn’t been able to change the colour of Ron's eyebrows from ginger to blonde even though he had been getting the hang of it during his last lesson. In Defence Against the Dark Arts he had been completely unable to produce fire while they studied how to deflect an Inferi attack. It was a spell he had learnt in his Fourth year, and yet it seemed to be completely beyond him, the most he had done was spit embers across his desk, which he had quickly patted out with the corner of his robes. In Charms his bubble head charm produced nothing more than a stream of tiny bubbles which popped upon contact with his textbook, leaving small, round water marks on the ink. He didn’t know what was going on, but he could quite accurately predict that it wasn’t good.   
  
By dinnertime Harry took his leave from his friends, leaving Ron, Hermione, Blaise and Pansy, to go down to lunch together while he went straight to the Room of Requirement. If the looks the two Gryffindor's had been exchanging all day Harry knew that they had figured out that something was going on with him, but the expression he had been wearing for the better part of the day must have stopped any questions they wanted to ask. He wanted to be alone for this, he would tell Ron and Hermione what was going on if, and only if, there was something actually wrong with him.   
  
The room provided him with the familiar DA practice room, and for the first time since Draco’s disappearance Harry allowed himself to feel fondness for his surroundings. He had enjoyed teaching everyone, even with the threat of Voldemort hanging over their heads, and the insanity that was Umbridge waddling around the school. Maybe Draco had been right about pursuing a career in Defence teaching, he could see himself having fun with that.   
  
He set himself up at one side of the room, with the pile of cushions that had featured so heavily in his lessons last year opposite him. He took a deep breath, steeled his jaw, and tightened his grip on his wand, and it was  _ his _ wand, he figured his best chance was with his original Holly and Phoenix feather, rather than Draco’s Hawthorn and Unicorn hair.  
  
“Accio.” He also did away with attempting a non-verbal spell. But even with these measures in place, the pillow on top of the pile only trembled.   
  
“Accio.” It shifted slightly, teetered on the edge, and fell to the floor.  
  
“Accio!” The pillow finally began to move towards him, but it was like it was being dragged through syrup. It moved slowly across the floor before stuttering to a halt, still six feet away. Harry gave up on it and moved onto his next spell.  
  
“Lumos.” The tip of his wand lit up immediately, Harry cheered for a fraction of a second, before the light stuttered out.  
  
“Expelliarmus!” He aimed at the dummy with the fake wand which stood in the far corner of the room. The stick of wood in its hand vibrated but didn’t even fall to the ground.  
  
“REDUCTO!” He tried, the dummy which would have usually dissipated into ash simply fell against the wall like a stiff breeze had passed over it.   
  
“FUCK!” Harry threw his wand to the floor from frustration. A shower of sparks erupted from the tip, alighting the dummy in flames and doing more damage accidentally than Harry’s reducto had.  
  
“Fuck!” That meant there was nothing wrong with his wand. Which meant it was him. Him and his stupid magic. He stumbled back against the wall. He slid down it until he was sitting on the floor, with his knees bent and his head in his hands.  
  
He couldn’t use magic. He was a Wizard, in a Wizarding school, who couldn’t use magic. He should just start packing his bags now, he obviously wouldn’t be allowed to stay. He allowed his head to tilt back against the wall and he looked up at the high ceiling above him. He closed his eyes and traced the core of his magic, he had done this with Draco so many times in the last year that it barely took him a few seconds. His magic felt stunted. Controlled. Suppressed. It was wrong. So, so, wrong. Their magic was still entwined, but it didn’t feel right. When he tried to tug at a strand of it, it snapped back into place like an elastic band, it didn’t spread throughout his veins or fill him with warmth like it usually did. Someone had restrained their magic to the point where it was unusable. And Harry knew that nothing had changed on his end.  
  
Wherever Draco was and whoever he was with, had restrained his magic, their magic, to the point of magical castration. Draco was more defenceless now than ever before and not for the first time Harry reached out with his mind to try and seek out that connection between them. He pressed every emotion he felt down that closed link, trying to make it burst open under the onslaught, in the hopes that he would finally be able to break through to his Soulmate.   
  
To no avail. The connection stayed clamped closed. Their magics remained subdued. And Harry remained sitting on the stone floor until he felt as cold on the outside as he did on the inside.  
  
Sitting on the cold floor, with his head in his hands and his wand forgotten six feet away, was exactly how Ron and Hermione found him an hour later. Without a single word they flanked him and sunk down to the floor with their backs against the wall and their shoulders pressed tightly against either of Harry's. Hermione shifted so she could rest her head against his shoulder and Ron reached into the pocket of his robe and pulled out a chocolate frog, he unwrapped it and offered it to Harry who took it without a word. He didn't need to say thank you for Ron to know that he appreciated the thought.   
  
"You're cold." Hermione commented. He had hardly noticed, too preoccupied with trying to think of a how and a why for this new magical mystery. But now that they were next to him he could feel their heat starting to seep into his shoulders and upper arms.  Harry nodded. He had told them before about the icy chill that he had woken up with the morning after Draco had disappeared. Hermione had grasped his hands between her own but she couldn't feel what he could, to her he was a perfectly normal temperature, there was no reason for him to be freezing from the inside out. She had even run through a list of symptoms for hypothermia but Harry didn't fit any of them. He was simply cold. Ron on the other hand had clapped a hand on his shoulder and looked at him with a sombre frown, "do you think this is because your Soulmate is gone?" Ron had asked, Harry didn't know for sure but he suspected as much.  
  
"Should we move towards a fire?" Hermione asked and just as she did, the familiar fireplace and couches popped up at the other side of the room, nestled into the far corner of the massive Defence practice room. Harry looked at the comfy furnishings, he could feel the fire calling to him but he shook his head. He didn't want to move, he didn't think he could force his body to stand up just yet. Movement meant facing reality. If he stayed here for just a little longer he could pretend that everything was all right.  
  
"How about…" Ron's sentence trailed off, and within a second another fire appeared in front of them. Roaring and crackling with much needed warmth.  
  
He offered Ron a small grateful smile. It wasn't much, just a quirk at the corners of his mouth. But it was enough for Ron to pat him on the back in lieu of a 'you're welcome'. They had perfected their non-verbal communication years ago, there were some things that just didn't need to be said, some things that would make the situation awkward and stilted. Ron knew how much Harry appreciated his friendship, they didn't need to sprout off about it every time one of them did something as elementary as saving each other's lives.  
  
"Do you want to talk about it?" Hermione asked as she stared into the fire. That was good, Harry didn't think he'd be able to say very much if she was looking directly at him. Her expression always gave away exactly what she was thinking.  Harry opened his mouth to speak. But the words refused to come. He snapped his mouth shut and his teeth ground together with an audible click. He reached a hand into his robe and pulled out Draco's wand (since his own was still lying on the ground). If he wasn't able to explain it at least he could demonstrate.  
  
"Lumos." Harry cast, and as it had before, the light at the end of his wand flared to life and then stuttered out like a wet candle wick.  
  
"Aguamenti." A few measly droplets of water hit the flames in front of them and hissed against the logs.  
  
"Accio." He pointed at his own wand, which jumped about slightly under the severely underwhelming spell but otherwise lay exactly where he had thrown it.  
  
"Oh no." Hermione whispered, her mind was already going a mile a minute. Harry knew she was trying to figure out what this meant, and was coming up with any and every possible solution she had stored in that wonderfully big brain of hers.  
  
"What does that mean?" Ron asked and at Harry's incredulous look he continued to speak, "I mean…I  _ know _ what this means. But I would like someone to tell me, because I'd really like to be wrong."  
  
"It means," Harry sighed out, before continuing on with a murmur that barely carried over the cracking and popping coming from the fire, "That I have no magic, no useful magic. I think whoever has Draco has managed to bind our magic."  
  
"Can you still feel it?" Hermione asked.  
  
"Yeah. But it's suppressed somehow."  
  
"Oh Harry." Hermione wrapped a hand around his forearm and she squeezed firmly in an effort to convey her solidarity.  
  
"What do we do now?" Ron asked.  
  
"We go to Dumbledore," Hermione said, "Right Harry?"   
  
"Yeah, Dumbledore." Harry answered blankly.


	16. Chapter 16

“Interesting.” Dumbledore didn’t think it was necessary to expand on his single word answer, he just looked at Harry over the gold rim of his glasses and regarded him with those twinkling blue eyes of his. The look he was giving Harry was knowing, which meant that he probably did know something Harry didn’t.  
  
“Sir?”  
  
“Admittedly it is not something I’ve ever come across before,” He folded his hands on the desk in front of him, covering his blackened withered hand with his good one, “But then, the connection between yourself and Mr Malfoy is extremely rare. Even those few with a Soul bond have never reached the point of complete magical integration, not that we know of.”  
  
“So you don’t know what to do?” Harry said, utterly defeated. He had entered the office with a little voice telling him that Dumbledore could fix this, though he knew it was unlikely. Now that hope was stamped out, gone as quickly as it had appeared when Hermione had suggested Dumbledore as an answer.  
  
“I do not.” Harry slumped low in the chair he was sitting in, aware that his manners were lacking but not really giving a shit at the current moment, “But I can get in touch with a few people who might. It may be as simple as reversing the spell on Mr Malfoy, but we would need to wait until he is returned to our care.” Harry pushed himself up a little straighter. A potential solution? Something to give him hope in any case.  
  
“What should I do about my classes?” Harry asked.  
  
“I will inform your teachers about your situation, I will leave it up to you to discuss with your Professors the ways in which you can make up the practical portion of your classes.”  
  
“So, I won’t have to leave Hogwarts.” Harry asked, barely allowing himself to hope. Hogwarts was his home after all, the first place he had ever been happy.  
  
“No, my boy. You won’t have to leave Hogwarts.” Dumbledore smiled at him and Harry had never felt the affection from a Grandparent before, but he had to think that it felt a little something like this.   
  
“What if it never comes back?” It was the worst case scenario, but Harry had to know. Would he still be able to stay once they’ve exhausted all their options for a ‘cure’.  
  
“We will cross that bridge if we come to it, but there are subjects that don’t require an active magical core, and careers that you could thrive in. You have an ambition to be a Quidditch Player, do you not?”  
  
“It’s something I’m considering.” Harry admitted, he wouldn’t be surprised if McGonagall had told him about his career prospects.  
  
“Your life in the Wizarding world doesn’t end here Harry, there are possibilities around every corner. I can assure you of that.” Dumbledore smiled at him kindly.  
  
“Thank you Sir.”  
  
“I am however, glad that you came to visit me today. I have some news.”  
  
“About Draco?” Harry scooted forward onto the edge of the chair so fast that it almost tipped over, “You shouldn’t have let me go on about myself when you have news about Draco.” Dumbledore held up a patient hand to silence Harry before he could continue to ask questions.  
  
“We have received information that Voldemort and his followers have been allowed entry into Malfoy Manor.”  
  
“But…” Harry stopped for a split-second, as he tried to make sense of what Dumbledore had just told him, “But Draco controls those wards. He’s the only one who can grant someone permission to pass through them.” Harry pointed out, as though it were new information that Dumbledore wasn’t already completely aware of.  
  
“I believe so.” Dumbledore agreed.  
  
“He...He wouldn’t though. He wouldn’t do that.” Harry stammered as he denied the fact as vehemently as he could. Dumbledore remained silent, "Could he be forced into giving someone access, tortured into it?" Even mentioning the word torture made him feel physically sick. Imagining his wonderful Draco being put under the Cruciatus Curse again made his stomach turn, the memory of Draco screaming on the ground in the Ministry of Magic was still one that haunted his nightmares. He had a sudden image of Draco in a pair of St Mungo's pyjamas, lying in a bed next to Neville's parents.  
  
"Through Mr Weasley's work with the wards around the Manor we know that the magics prevent permission through coercion. Torture including." Harry let out a long breath of relief, before the second worst scenario came to mind.  
  
"So...What? We think that Draco's deflected back to Voldemort?" Harry couldn't believe it. He  _ wouldn't  _ believe it. After everything that they had gone through last year, he  _ knew _ that there was no way Draco Malfoy would ever join Voldemort. It was a fact. A hard fact.  
  
"I do not believe so, no. I am of the opinion that Mr Malfoy is under some sort of enchantment that allows Voldemort to bypass the coercion ward." Harry breathed another sigh of relief, "It is also, I believe, the reason why your magic has been suppressed, if Mr Malfoy is not in his right mind it may be possible that suppressing both of your joined magics may be a way of keeping him in line."  
  
"So, Draco's in Malfoy Manor?" Dumbledore nodded sagely, "But we can get through easily. We can send just Dobby to find Draco can't we? That's what we did last year when we saved Mrs Malfoy."  
  
"It's unlikely that Voldemort will leave that gap in his defences for a second time. I doubt even Dobby could infiltrate the Manor at this point in time. We also don't know of Mr Malfoy's faculties. If he is under an illusion or enchantment of some sort then removing him from that situation may do more harm than good to his mental state."  
  
"We're just going to leave him there?" Harry despaired.  
  
"We are doing everything we can Harry. But take comfort in the knowledge that as long as Voldemort is in Malfoy Manor, young Draco is alive."  
  
Take comfort, Dumbledore had said, who could possibly take comfort in the knowledge that their loved one was being held captive by Voldemort himself? Harry didn’t know why Voldemort wanted Draco, but he supposed that being allowed entrance into one of the most heavily fortified estates in Britain could probably be a factor. There had to be more to it than that though, it wouldn’t have taken Voldemort long to ward himself a new location. There had to be something about Malfoy Manor that Voldemort needed, he wouldn’t have gone through the trouble of kidnapping Draco from the school if it was something he could have gotten for himself.   
  
X  
  
Harry woke up the next morning with his covers half hanging off the bed from where he had thrown them in the middle of the night. His shirt was sweat soaked and his hair felt like it was matted to his forehead. This was a sensation he hadn’t felt for the better part of two and a half weeks. Warmth. Warmth that set into his limbs, preventing them from creaking and cracking from the strain of the harsh temperature that had previously set in. It had been so long that Harry had felt warm without an extreme outside source that he allowed himself a few minutes to bask in the new found heat that spread from his head to his toes. He needed to get up, shower and go down to breakfast, but he would enjoy this feeling for a little longer before allowing himself to remember that although he knew exactly where his Soulmate was, he was still woefully beyond his reach.   
  
Oh, and the fact that he couldn’t cast a simple First year spell to save his life. There was that too.  
  
It was still early. Harry could tell that by the tightly closed hangings around Neville and Dean, Ron was half hanging out of his own bed, he had shifted during the night to sleep diagonally, one of his arms was flopped out of the top of the bed, and one foot was dangling out of the bottom. Seamus was lying spread eagled and starfished over his mattress, with his arms and legs spread as wide as they could possibly get. A loud snorted snore escaping from his mouth propelled Harry to his feet and had him moving through their dorm room to the showers.   
  
His shower was short, he no longer felt the need to crank the heat of the water up to the point of scalding just to feel something resembling warm water, and he no longer needed to wait until that heat seeped into his body before he felt like he could function as a normal human being. He tried not to think about what this meant for Draco but he vowed to talk to Hermione about it over breakfast.  As was his routine these days, he entered the Great Hall early, just as breakfast was appearing on the tables. The only people who were in the Hall were a few Prefects who had morning duties and some of the Professors who preferred to get to their classrooms early to set up for the day. For Harry it gave him the advantage of watching everyone who entered the hall. He was taking mental notes on who entered with who. Who was casting dirty looks at each other. Who was dating who. He had recently found out that there was a Ravenclaw seventh year whose boyfriend left Hogwarts last year, but now she had started to see someone else while still receiving letters and parcels from her graduated boyfriend. Pretty juicy gossip he suspected. And Harry had noticed how certain members of the Slytherin house had started to distance themselves from others. Harry knew they were separating themselves based on their allegiances. It was a silent agreement but Harry had been able to identify which group was which. He was happy to see Blaise and Pansy placing themselves firmly in the ‘Against Voldemort’ group. He wouldn’t expect any of them to ally themselves with the light side, but they were trying their best to remain neutral and he could respect that.   
  
Harry hadn’t stopped himself from hoping that Draco would just appear one day. That’s why he watched as everyone made their way into the Great Hall, and today was no different. He nodded cordially to the students who had attended his DA lessons last year, he overheard the latest news from the two-timing Ravenclaw, and he watched as two Hufflepuffs who had squabbled over something yesterday glared at each other and sat at opposite ends of their house table. It was the Slytherin house who were acting strangely. Those who had previously declared their allegiances by choosing to sit at certain ends of the table were integrated back into the main body of the Slytherins. Harry hadn't seen Blaise or Pansy arrive yet so he couldn't pull them to one side to ask them what was going on. There seemed to be a buzz about the entire house, they were whispering amongst themselves and barely touching the breakfast foods spread out in front of them. Those who were eating kept looking up from their plates to cast curious and hopeful glances toward the open doors that connected the Entrance Hall to the Great Hall. Something was definitely going on. Harry didn't have to wait too long to find out what. Just like the Slytherins he began to stare at the open doors waiting for whatever was making them so excitable.  
  
A flash of impossibly blonde hair and the amused sparkle of pale grey eyes told Harry exactly why the Slytherins were acting strangely.


	17. Chapter 17

Harry stopped and he stared. Because he couldn't actually be seeing what he thought he was seeing. Surely his hope at seeing Draco had manifested itself as a hallucination. A very vivid hallucination.  
  
Draco Malfoy was in Hogwarts walking towards the wide open door of the Great Hall, surrounded by a group of Slytherins. Most of which hadn't wanted anything to do with him since his deflection to the light side. It was strange to see Crabbe and Goyle following a step behind him as though they had never left his side. Blaise and Pansy and a handful of other Sixth year Slytherins laughed along with him lightheartedly as they followed him across the Entrance Hall. Draco was the centre of attention and he seemed to be lapping it up in a way that Harry hadn't seen from him in a long time. He looked wonderful. His mouth was curled into an amused smirk and his eyes were shining with mirth. His hair was perfectly styled and his Slytherin uniform was perfectly pressed. It was like he had been there all along, there wasn't a single indication that he had been kidnapped or tortured, a fact which Harry was extremely happy about. His imagination had conjured up images of Draco appearing black and blue on the front steps of Hogwarts, or half out of his mind, almost to the point of insanity from the effects of the Cruciatus.  
  
Harry stood up slowly, he felt almost as if he was in a fugue state as he walked up to the group of Slytherins. He tried to keep his face as neutral as possible, all he wanted was to throw himself on Draco but he kept himself in check. He certainly wouldn't appreciate Harry showing so much emotion around so many potential enemies. As he drew closer Draco turned to face him. The smile on his face was immediately chased away by the unimpressed look that Harry was so accustomed to. He had been on the receiving end of that look more than once. But apart from the lack of enthusiasm towards Harry, Draco looked perfect. Harry's original assessment, that Draco looked as wonderful as he did the day he disappeared, was entirely correct.  
  
"Draco." His name fell from Harry's lips almost like a prayer. He was trying not to lay himself bare in front of so many Slytherins who weren't particularly friendly, to say the least. He raised an eyebrow, a perfect eyebrow that complimented his features so wonderfully, and he shared a sardonic grin with the Slytherins he had surrounded himself with. Then he took a step towards Harry, with his gaze fixed onto his green eyes, Harry took a moment to let that unmistakable scent of Draco and his cologne wash over him. And then Draco finally spoke.  
  
"Fuck off Potter." Crabbe and Goyle guffawed behind him and Pansy and Daphne Greengrass laughed in high pitched giggles. Blaise, with his arms crossed across his chest, was silent but amused.  
  
"Are you going to move? Or do I need to make you?" Draco said with a fierce glare as he slipped a hand inside his robe to grasp at a wand.  _ A _ wand, not  _ his _ wand. Because Harry still had his wand tucked into his own inner pocket. Harry didn't prevent Draco from swanning past him, and he was too stunned to even put up a fight as Goyle shouldered him to one side, knocking him into the door frame in the process.   
  
This was wrong. Everything about this was wrong. From the way Draco spoke to him to the way he surrounded himself with Voldemort supporters, maybe (and it was a slim maybe) Draco really had deferred back to Voldemort. The thought only lasted a few seconds before Harry shook his head fiercely, shaking the thoughts out of his mind. He had been in Draco’s head more than once, he had shared emotions with him for months, he had seen Draco at his most vulnerable. There was no way that all that had just been an act and there was no way that he had been unsure about his aversion to Voldemort. There was something else going on here, and Harry was determined to get to the bottom of it. To do that he was pretty sure he would need Hermione.   
  
Harry was barely at the top of the main staircase, heading up to Gryffindor Tower when Ron and Hermione turned onto the first floor corridor ahead of him. He strode up to them and caught them both by their forearms, dragging them into one of the empty First year classrooms.  
  
“Harry, what’s wrong? We were just on our way down to breakfast to meet you.” Hermione said as Harry released them both and turned around the shut the door behind them.  
  
“Draco’s back.” He said. Ron’s brow drew low in confusion, and Hermione opened and closed her mouth a couple of times, speechless. And honestly, he could relate. He was a little bit gobsmacked himself.  
  
“What are you talking about?” Ron asked, beating his confusion before Hermione and voicing the one sentiment they all seemed to share.  
  
“Draco, he’s back in the castle. I just saw him.” Harry had expected a slightly more positive reaction, he certainly had been rather happy upon learning that particular news.  
  
“Do you mean...Malfoy?” Ron asked slowly.  
  
“Oh Ronald,” Hermione snapped, recently she had been pushing Ron to call him Draco but apart from the odd moment now and then, that dam hadn’t quite broken just yet, “Of course he means Malfoy.”   
  
Wait...what? Ron referring to Draco as Malfoy wasn’t new, but Hermione calling him Malfoy certainly was, “What I want to know, is why Harry cares so much about Malfoy’s whereabouts?” She looked to him expectantly with raised questioning eyebrows.  
  
“I want to know when you started calling him Draco, Mate.” Ron added.  Harry was stunned.  
  
“Well...Since we got together…” He said slowly, he felt like he was talking to a pair of toddlers.   
  
“Got together for what?” Ron looked at him blankly.  
  
“...A relationship.” Harry looked at both of them like they’d gone mad. The only problem was that they were also looking at  _ him  _ like  _ he’d  _ gone mad.  
  
“What are you talking about Harry?” Ron asked, “Is this some daft prank? Because I’m not falling for it.” Ron started looking around, as though the rest of the Sixth year boys were hiding in the classroom just waiting to jump out at him.  
  
“No...What’s wrong with you guys?” Harry asked in complete bafflement, “Draco and I have been together almost a year, you two were the first two people I told, what’s going on with you both?” Ron and Hermione shared a long look. Then they looked back at Harry. Ron was the first to start laughing.  
  
“Good one Mate!” Ron said through streaming tears.  
  
“You and Malfoy?” Hermione asked incredulously, but Ron’s laughter was starting to get to her and not even she could stop the little giggles that were escaping from her mouth. Harry looked between them, utterly bewildered.  
  
“Look at how straight his face is too, I had no idea you were such a good actor Harry. Honestly, you and the Ferret.” Ron doubled over, with his hands on his knees, to catch his breath.  
  
“Come on,” Hermione took a second look at Ron and let out another hysterical giggle which she quickly tamped down, “Ron and I need breakfast still before class, are you coming back down?”  
  
“No.” Harry looked at them both, he had never been more confused in all his life. Not even when Hagrid had knocked on the door of that little shack on his eleventh birthday and told him he was a Wizard. Not even when he found out he was the Boy-Who-Lived. Or when he found himself inadvertently attracted to the blonde Slytherin who had previously made his life extremely difficult for four years. “I-I forgot something in the Tower. I’ll meet you there.” He quickly lied.  
  
His friends left him alone in the empty classroom in a state of confusion, still laughing between themselves at Harry's 'joke'. He pulled the Marauders Map out of his bag, and flattened the old parchment onto one of the desks. He whispered the password, it had been two days since he had woken up without full use of his magic and he hadn't yet tried to use the map (part of his effort to pull himself together and start trying to act like a normal human being), so he just hoped that he had enough magic left in him to at least activate it.  
  
He did. The spiderwork of classrooms, corridors and halls spread out from the tip of his wand to fill the entirety of the parchment. Maybe it wasn’t Draco at all, it could quite easily be Polyjuice. It took Harry a little while to make out the names in the Great Hall, they were all bunched together and overlapped. But no, there he was,  _ Draco Malfoy,  _ written amongst the hundreds of other students who were eating their breakfast. Harry sighed in frustration, he glanced across the page hoping that something would jump out at him. The name  _ Albus Dumbledore  _ paced back and forth across the Headmasters office and Harry knew what he had to do. With a quick  _ Mischief Managed  _ Harry was stashing the map back into his bag and exiting the classroom in a hurry.  
  
X  
  
“Harry, to what do I owe the pleasure of your company this fine morning?”  
  
“Draco’s back in the castle, I just saw him in the Great Hall.”  
  
“Mr Malfoy?” Dumbledore questioned.  
  
“Yes Sir.” Harry was starting to wonder if everyone had lost their minds.  
  
“Mr Malfoy has returned from a brief stay at St Mungos. May I ask why you are interested? I was not aware that yourself and Mr Malfoy were on good terms.” Harry's mouth opened, then closed. First Ron and Hermione, now Dumbledore. Harry was very desperate to find out just what was going on with everyone.   
  
“St Mungos?” Harry asked, “But he…” Harry scrubbed his hands through his hair out of frustration, “You don’t remember Sir?” Harry said, as he slowly put the pieces together. Something has obviously happened to their memories.  
  
“Remember what, Harry?”  
  
“Draco and I have been in a relationship for a year. But, you don’t remember, and neither do Ron and Hermione. I don't even know if Draco remembers.” Dumbledore regarded him, looking almost through him with that all knowing stare that he was known for.  
  
“This is a highly unusual situation Harry. I’ve never come across a memory charm that acts with such precision. Are you sure-”  
  
“Sir, yesterday, everybody in the School- Hell, everyone in the Wizarding World knew that Draco and I were in a relationship. Today, I can’t even convince my best friends.”  
  
“Most unusual.” Dumbledore sat down at his desk and picked through his sherbet lemons, like he was having trouble finding the perfect one out of the bowl full of identical sweets.  
  
“Two weeks ago Draco Malfoy suffered a Quidditch accident and was admitted to St Mungos. He was released yesterday.” Dumbledore said once he found a particularly perfect sweet.  
  
“What happened to him?" Harry quickly revised his question, "What do you think happened?”  
  
“He fell from his broom, the fall caused him to hit his head and resulted in massive gaps in his memory.” Dumbledore paused and looked up at Harry, “What do  _ you  _ believe happened to Mr Malfoy, Harry?”  
  
“We never worked that out. I found his wand on the second floor corridor when he disappeared. The Order found out that Voldemort was allowed back through the wards of Malfoy Manor a couple of days ago, and today Draco came back to Hogwarts as though none of it ever happened.”  
  
“I must reiterate Harry, this type of magic is most unknown to me. But given that there were multiple witnesses to Mr Malfoy's injuries-” Harry cut Dumbledore off by reaching into his inner pocket and placing the Hawthorne wand on the desk in front of him, cutting the older man off before Dumbledore could suggest that Harry was somehow the outlier in this whole situation, as though  _ he  _ was the one who was mistaken.  
  
“This is Draco’s wand. This isn’t just in my head," Harry said in an effort to convince Dumbledore that he was telling the truth, "I know that the past year happened. Draco is my Soulmate, even though everyone else has forgotten I can still feel Draco in my magic, and even if the connection in my mind is closed off, I still know it’s there.”  
  
“Soulmates...Interesting.” Dumbledore said quietly, “And I am to assume that Mr Malfoy has joined the fight at your side?” Harry simply nodded.  
  
Dumbledore steepled his hands under his chin. He looked at Harry for a long drawn out moment. Harry had nothing else to convince Dumbledore with. He could extract his memories but if they couldn’t trust Dumbledore’s memories then he was sure his own would be looked at with suspicion. After a minute or two Dumbledore opened a desk drawer and pulled out a piece of parchment and a quill.   
  
“I do not have all the answers Harry, but it has been in my experience that the Hogwarts Library holds a great deal of answers for a great number of people. I am giving you unrestrained access to the Restricted Section. I wish I could do more for you but as you are aware my spare time is limited.”   
  
“I’ll need-”   
  
“I have also given permission for Miss Granger and Mr Weasley to accompany you.” Dumbledore said, knowing exactly what Harry was going to ask for. Harry knew that he wouldn’t be able to do this alone. First he just had to convince his friends of the truth.  
  
“Thank you Sir.”  
  
“Use this wisely Harry.” Dumbledore passed the parchment over.  
  
“Believe me Sir, if my Soulmate’s life is on the line, which I believe it is, then I’ll do everything I can.”


	18. Chapter 18

“Hermione.” Harry managed to approach her as she was on her way down to lunch, Harry remembered that she had wanted to ask Professor Flitwick a question about their most recent assignment so she was lagging behind the rest of the Gryffindor's who had left her to her own devices. Harry had decided that lunchtime was probably the best time to pull her to one side, he hadn’t wanted to wait until after their day of classes before he talked to her, and catching her without Ron was imperative. It would have been almost impossible to pull her away from him without arousing suspicion.  
  
“Harry! Where have you been all morning?” She asked as she came to a halt in front of him and placed her hands on her hips, “Professor McGonagall wasn’t pleased at all that you were missing from her class. I suspect she’ll give you detention next time she sees you.”  
  
“That’s not important right now-”  
  
“Not important? Harry! This is our Sixth year, you can’t spend all your time in detention like you did last year, this year is important!”  
  
“I was with Dumbledore, he can give me a note.” He quickly explained.   
  
“Oh…” She trailed off and looked at him expectantly but when no further explanation came she said, “I was just on my way down to the great hall, are you coming?”  
  
“How about the kitchens?” Harry asked. This wasn’t a conversation that could be conducted in the Great Hall.   
  
“Okay?” She questioned as she stepped around him to lead them both down the moving staircases and towards the entrance of the Kitchens. Her lips were pursed slightly and Harry could tell that she was both very confused and very intrigued.  
  
“Is this about Professor Snape?” She started to say as they walked down the main staircase, “Because you know what I’ve told you about that.”  
  
“No, it’s not Snape.” He said, “I’ll tell you in a minute.” They walked across the Entrance Hall together, bypassing the wide open doors leading to the rest of the student population enjoying their lunch. Harry ducked his head slightly, in a vague attempt to not catch anyone's eye.  
  
“Harry Potter!” Harry felt like the wind was knocked out of him as something small collided with his legs and wrapped around his knees.  
  
“Hey Dobby.” Harry said, and awkwardly patted him on the top of his head until he let go, knocking his tower of hats askew in the process, “Could we just have some sandwiches please?”  
  
“Yes Harry Potter Sir, come in, come in.” Dobby pushed them towards the closest table and he didn’t move away until they were sitting comfortably.  
  
“Harry?” Hermione asked quietly, “Is everything okay.”  
  
“Something happened...Something big.” He said, and then paused as a huge platter of sandwiches was levitated towards them.  
  
“Go on.” Hermione encouraged as the platter came to rest in front of them and the House-Elves continued about their business, practically ignoring their presence like Harry had hoped.  
  
“Do you remember what I said to you earlier?”  
  
“The thing about Malfoy? That was rather out of character for you, I never would have pegged you to be the type of person who would have joked about a relationship in that way. If I’m honest it was Ron’s reaction that had me in stitches more than what you said. He looked horrified!” She giggled slightly and took a small bite out of a ham sandwich.  
  
“That’s exactly the problem. It wasn’t a joke.” She dropped the sandwich down onto the table as she turned to him with narrowed eyes.  
  
“Come on now Harry, that’s enough of that. We all know Malfoy is gay, it’s all too obvious after all, and yes he isn’t very nice to us, but you shouldn’t use someone’s sexuality to make them the butt of the joke.”  
  
“I’m not!” Harry defended, “I wouldn’t. _I’m_ gay!”  
  
“Oh.” Hermione said suddenly speechless at the exclamation.  
  
“And I’ve been in a relationship for the past year.” Harry clenched his jaw slightly as he prepared himself to say it. He had already done this once before and it shouldn’t be as difficult as it was proving to be, Hermione had accepted Draco once and Harry hoped she would be able to again. He could see her already putting the pieces together as she connected the dots between his apparent “joke” from earlier that morning, “ _With_ Draco.” Harry finished just before she was able to make the connection herself.  
  
“I’m sorry Harry, I don’t understand.” She shook her head vigorously and her curly hair flicked from side to side from the force of it.  
  
“That’s not even half of it.” Harry said and then he launched into a full explanation, he told her about falling in love with Draco, about Draco turning towards the light side, about finding out they were Soulmates. He touched very briefly on Draco’s involvement at the Ministry last summer, simply stating that Draco was the sole reason he was alive, and then he told her about Draco going missing.  
  
“That’s...A lot to take in.” She said slowly, staring at the grains of the table absentmindedly as she tried to focus on the information that Harry had unloaded onto her, “So you’re telling me that I already knew all of this, but my memory has been altered in some way?”  
  
“Yes.”  
  
“And so has everyone else's?”  
  
“Yes.”  
  
“Except yours?”  
  
“Yes.”   
  
“Professor Dumbledore was the one to tell us all that Malfoy was being transferred to St Mungo’s, he made the announcement the evening it happened. Was that fake too?”  
  
“Yes.” Harry responded again. He’d already bogged her down with so much information, he didn’t feel the need to extrapolate more than necessary. He was used to this line of questioning from Hermione, less fact finding and more of a way to organise her own thoughts on the matter at hand.  
  
“How is it that you can remember?” She asked.  
  
“I’m not entirely sure, I would imagine it has something to do with the Soulmate bond that links us. We have some kind of mental link, maybe that protected me from whatever the spell was?”  
  
“Possibly.” Hermione said succinctly, “And you think everyone’s memories have been tampered with?” She asked, “The entirety of Wizarding Britain?”   
  
“I think so, I’m going to write to Sirius later to see what he remembers. But I would think that too many people knew about our relationship to just do a memory charm on the school and expect that to be enough. We were mentioned in the Daily Prophet and everything.”  
  
“Let’s check up on that first, I think it will make a massive difference whether it was a Charm on the school or a charm on the whole of Britain. I mean, the amount of power involved would have to be phenomenal.” Hermione said, “I still don’t understand though, why Malfoy? Why go through the trouble? If he’s done what you say he has then why bother to change people’s memories? Why not just kill him?” Harry’s stomach clenched as she said it, “Sorry.” She said as an afterthought, something distasteful must have shown on his face at the mere idea of it.  
  
“I think it has something to do with Malfoy Manor, Voldemort was given permission to pass through the wards and two days later Draco turns back up at School. If he kills Draco the wards will reset to the new Lord Malfoy, which I suppose would be me...Although, I don’t know what the memory spell would have done to those documents, I think the magic would still follow through with it though.”  
  
“But why send him back to school at all? Why not just keep him in the Manor? Surely it would be much easier to keep him under control?”  
  
“Maybe he needs something that’s in the school?” Harry responded. If he was honest, he hadn’t thought much of the why since seeing Draco again, he had been more concerned with the how.  
  
“Perhaps.” Hermione nodded slightly, “So I assume that you’re asking for my help to find whatever spell this might have been?” Harry nodded, “I have so much work to do-”  
  
“Any time you can give me at all I’ll take, you’re worth about ten of me when it comes to research.”  
  
“I’ll take a look at my schedule.”   
  
“Thank you, you’re amazing. Honestly.” She flushed and took another sandwich.  
  
“It’s quite a complex bit of magic really.” Hermione commented after she had finished the half sandwich, “To change the memories of such a wide spread population. He couldn’t erase Malfoy completely of course, especially if he needed him to return to Hogwarts, there needed to be a paper trail after all. It’s strange because I do distinctly remember Malfoy being in our classes last year.”  
  
“From January onwards he was always sitting with me.”  
  
“No, I remember him being on the Slytherin side a lot. He was quiet last year. I don’t remember him saying very much to me. But I know he was there…” She trailed off and her eyebrows drew close, her thinking face.  
  
“Hermione?”  
  
“I’m trying to remember something I read once. It was Muggle, I remember reading it in a magazine while I waited for my parents to finish work. Maybe...Maybe my memories of Malfoy aren’t fake memories at all. Maybe they aren’t even the product of magic.”  
  
“You’ve lost me.” A common occurrence when Hermione started discussing magical theory.  
  
“It was a Psychology Journal you see. My Mum always likes to have more than gossip and fashion magazines in the waiting area. I remember it saying that memory is complex and imprecise, a person can’t possibly remember every detail of their lives indefinitely so your mind sorts through what is important and discards the rest. Then you subconsciously use logic to put the pieces together.”  
  
“What does this have to do with-”  
  
“I’m getting there. You see your mind takes one event and fills in the blanks to make the next event make sense.”  
  
“Okay…”  
  
“So, I know for a fact that Malfoy completed his Fourth Year, and I know for a fact that Malfoy is in school now. So although I may not actively remember Malfoy being around last year, I logically know that he must have been, because I know that he must have completed his fifth year in order to progress into Sixth. Are you with me so far?” Harry nodded quickly, “So my brain uses logic to place him where I would expect him to be. I would expect him to be at the Slytherin table during dinner and I expect him to be sat with the Slytherins in class, so that’s where my memory places him.” She looked up at Harry with that sparkle in her eye that she always got whenever she thought she had said something particularly ingenious.  
  
“So...You think that everyone’s memories of Draco last year haven’t been tampered with at all, they’ve just been flat out erased?”  
  
“I think so. It would be far too difficult to craft everyone’s individual memories because their expectations of Malfoy would be so different. I feel like the closer people are to him, the shakier their memories would be. It’s not strange to me because Malfoy being on the sidelines doesn’t affect my life. But people he’s friends with and having interactions with on a daily basis would have a much more difficult time filling in the blanks.”  
  
“Do you think we can reverse it?” He asked, and her face fell instantly.  
  
“I don’t know, Voldemort is a very powerful wizard, who knows where he came across such a specific spell.”  
  
“I need him back, Hermione.” Harry murmured, “He was...Everything to me.”  
  
“You loved him?”  
  
“Yes.” His response was instantaneous.  
  
“And he loved you?”  
  
“Yes.”  
  
“I’m glad you had that. I hope you can have that again.” Her hand found his under the table and she squeezed it tightly.   
  
“Me too.”  
  
X  
  
“Where the bloody hell have you two been?” Ron asked them as they appeared for Defence Against the Dark Arts.  
  
“I was with Dumbledore, and then I really needed Hermione’s help with something.”  
  
“Didn’t need me?” He looked put out, but Harry knew he wouldn’t be ready to hear the truth just yet.  
  
“I’ll fill you in at some point, promise.” Harry patted him on the shoulder by way of apology.  
  
“-Missed so much, Draco.” Harry tried not to snap his head to one side to watch as Draco entered the classroom with Pansy by his side. Followed by Crabbe and Goyle, Harry hadn’t seen much of them last year, after Draco’s deflection they had avoided him like the plague, they weren’t particularly bright but they knew enough to keep their distance. Draco’s threat of going to the Ministry with memories of Voldemort's followers had hit them particularly hard.  
  
“I’ll catch up Pansy. I don’t think I’ll have much of an issue.” Harry’s eyes drifted closed in a long, slow blink as he allowed Draco’s voice to wash over him, filling him up from the inside out and bringing warmth to his fingertips. His magic usually responded with an arch of pleasure inside of him, their joined magic responding to the immediate vicinity of its counterpart. Except he had no useful magic right now, so it lay still and dormant. Hermione turned to look at him, and he knew that she was judging his reaction to Draco. Having him so near but being unable to touch him was a torture that he hadn’t had to live through since the very early stages of their relationship, they had come out so early to everyone that being forced to spend time apart had been a non-issue.  
  
“Just a sec.” Harry said, he turned from his friends who were settling themselves at the desks on the Gryffindor side of the classroom, which was rather odd too. Ever since the start of the year there had been a lot more inter-house mingling, those who followed Voldemort kept themselves together at one side of the room, keeping to a few desks. The rest of them had started mingling and sitting together during classes, not that they could be considered friends, but as a general rule they were amicable.  
  
Harry made it to Draco’s side as the Slytherins were taking their seats, the blonde was already sitting and he had to crane his neck to look Harry in the eye. Harry just tried his best not to stare at the long pale column of his throat, he tried not to remember what it looked like when it was covered in his teeth marks, he tried not to notice the inviting curve of Dracos sharp jaw, and that place just beneath his ear that Harry liked to kiss until Draco was left shuddering. Harry reached into his robe and closed his hand around one of the wands in his inner pocket. He didn’t react when Draco pulled an unfamiliar wand out in response. He pointed it at Harry with a fierce glare and a sneer on his lips as he silently dared Harry to do whatever he was thinking about doing. The rest of the conversations around the room halted as everyone turned to watch their interaction.   
  
The wand that was in Draco’s hand wasn’t one that Harry recognised, but he knew how many Witches and Wizards Voldemort had killed and it could have belonged to any one of them. Maybe someone had been killed for the sole purpose of relieving their wand to Draco? Harry sorely hoped not. He pulled Draco's original Hawthorn wand out of his pocket and held it by the tip non-threateningly while offering it to Draco, handle first. Harry didn’t say a word, he knew that Draco would recognise it instantly.  
  
“That’s my…” Draco placed the unfamiliar wand on the desk in front of him, and he very slowly reached out and took his own wand from Harry, “How the fuck did you...?”  
  
“It’s good to have you back...Draco.” Harry looked him in the eye, he tried his best to search for any hint of the Draco that he had known. The Draco that he had fallen in love with. He was sure that there must be a part of his Draco still in there, because rather than hexing him to Hell and back, Draco was staring up at him looking utterly baffled. Harry just nodded to him and he turned on his heel to walk back to the seat that Ron was saving for him.  
  
“What the fuck was all that about mate?” Ron hissed as Harry sat down by his side.  
  
Thankfully Harry wasn’t forced to come up with an answer, that was the moment Snape decided to enter the room. He thought about what Hermione had said, she had mentioned Snape first, ever since Draco had disappeared Harry hadn’t pondered too much on whatever Snape was up to. Around the third day of Draco’s disappearance Harry had gone through a whole list of reasons why Snape was involved, he had taken the list to Dumbledore with absolute certainty that he was right, and had barely finished reading point number one when Dumbledore had raised a hand to silence him. After that he had tried to trust Dumbledore when he said that Snape wasn’t involved and had put it to the back of his mind.  
  
“Today you will be revising your non-verbal shield charms, and the various methods in which a shield can be erected.” Ron tried to stifle his laugh at the word erected, and Harry had to kick him under the table when Snape's eyes turned to them, “Begin.” He snapped.  
  
Harry raised his wand in the air, and made it look like he was trying to do a non-verbal shield charm, but he knew he wouldn’t be able to. Ever since arriving at Hogwarts he had never wondered what it would be like if he had to live without magic again. He imagined having to walk around day after day feeling like one of his limbs had been cut off. He hadn’t realised how much of himself had become so dependent on living with magic. Then he quickly remembered that there were people in the world who actually had to learn how to survive and adapt when one of their limbs was amputated and the comparison fled from his mind as quickly as it had come. It wouldn’t be anywhere near fair to compare the two.  
  
He shifted his body slightly to the side, just enough so that he could see Draco sitting with the Slytherins at the other side of the room. In their very first non-verbal lesson Draco had been the first to master it, but he seemed to be having an issue with it now. Maybe whatever was binding him was having an adverse effect on Draco too, their magics had been so completely integrated that removing his contribution to their shared magical core would surely cause Draco’s to become unstable. Draco’s wand arm was shaking from the effort and he was biting down on his lip so hard that Harry had the urge to cross the room, free it with his thumb and soothe away the sting with a soft tender kiss. Even with the extra effort he was exuding, every inch of him was still perfection.  
  
That’s when Harry had an epiphany.  
  
The Draco in this room, at this moment in time, might not be _his_ Draco. He might not have his memories. He might not have their mental connection. Or their magical connection. For all intents and purposes, he might be every bit the Slytherin and the Malfoy that others expected him to be. But at least he was here. In Hogwarts. Away from Voldemort. He was here, alive, and almost well. And even though Harry couldn't reach over and touch him, or kiss him or hold him. At least he could still look over and _see_ him. Which was more than he had been able to do in the past two weeks. He could watch how Pansy saying something to him made him quirk the corners of his lips up in a barely there smile, and how Blaise’s sarcastic answer made his eyes shine in restrained mirth. He could appreciate those long fingers, and the way they gripped his wand with such a precise hold. Draco had explained to him once, while they were lying side by side in the slowly darkening room at Grimmauld Place, that it was so he could cast spells in quick succession, it had been something that his Mother had taught him. Then he had taken Harry’s hand in his own and had moved Harry’s fingers into the correct formation around his Holly wand. Harry had tugged him close and with his wand in both of their hands he had kissed Draco soundly on the mouth. It had escalated, as their kisses always did, with Draco shifting closer and slotting his thigh between Harry’s as Harry’s tongue made its way into his mouth. Harry’s wand had shot red sparks into the air at that and Harry had thrown it to one side with a muffled laugh against Draco’s lips.  
  
He could watch as Draco glared at a lock of his hair that fell from its spelled hold and flopped forwards onto his forehead. It was long enough now to fall down to his eyes and tickle against his eyelid. Harry knew he couldn’t stand it when his hair fell, he had once watched him cast three different styling spells at one stray spike of hair that had refused to lay flat. Not to mention how distressed he got when Harry rolled out of bed and barely ruffled his hair before declaring it styled. It had taken Draco five days, ten copies of Witch Weekly’s style guides, and countless spells and potions, for him to announce that Harry’s hair was impossible to work with and he wouldn’t be wasting his time any more. Harry knew that Draco secretly loved his hair. More than once Harry had been collapsed with his head in Draco’s lap and Draco had twirled his fingers through Harry’s “impossible” hair.  
  
So, yes, Harry thought as he drifted back to reality, he missed _his_ Draco. But at least _this_ Draco was here. And he supposed he could work with that. He had made Draco fall in love with him once, surely he would be able to do it again.


	19. Chapter 19

Draco was lying on his bed in the Sixth year Slytherin dormitory, sprawled out fully dressed across the centre of the duvet with his head propped up on the standard Hogwarts pillows. He thought about his first year when it was his first time away from home, and how he had hated the over plump pillows and the too soft mattress. It had taken him months to get used to sleeping in a different bed, and every night he had wanted nothing more than to return to his bedroom at Malfoy Manor with his just right pillows and his just right bed. He held no such wish now. Now Hogwarts was the safe haven. Hogwarts hadn't been tainted, not yet, and at least he could live with the illusion of safety.  
  
He held his wand above his head and began to slowly twirl it through his fingers. He'd missed the feel of it, the way it made his fingers tingle with warmth and the familiar weight of it in his palm. He had thought the difficulty he was having with his magic might have had something to do with the wand he had been given, the Chestnut and dragon heartstring had never responded to him like his own usually did. It had felt wrong, like it was made for someone whose magic was dark and tainted, which made sense given the owner and the situation in which it had been crafted. He had hated it the moment it had met his palm. But even with his own wand his magic seemed to be wholly unfamiliar to him, it refused to be controlled or harnessed and it was making it incredibly difficult to cast even the most basic spells, he had never had a problem with control before, this was entirely new territory for him.  
  
Draco examined his wand under the dull light in the room, it was perfect, a few finger marks on the handle, but otherwise perfect. He had been told that it had been lost after his accident, which hadn't made much sense to him, even if it had fallen from his pocket a simple Accio could have found it on the pitch. An idiot could have done it. Which explains how Harry-fucking-Potter got hold of it, even if Draco didn't know why he would have even bothered. He looked at the crooked wand which was abandoned on the bedside table next to him, he would be glad to send it back to its rightful owner and see the end of it.   
  
He had arrived back at Hogwarts the night before, dropped off at the gates of Hogwarts by Corban Yaxley who had left him with a strong word of warning and a twisted grin of pleasure. It had made Draco swallow heavily upon his departure, and he had been forced to trudge up to the front doors with nothing but his borrowed wand and the ill-fitting robes on his back, cast offs from a seasonal wardrobe that no longer fit him. He hadn't needed the heavily implied words from Yaxley to know that failure would not be tolerated. He already knew nothing but blind obedience would be tolerated.  
  
After being rushed up to a tense meeting with Dumbledore, by McGonagall in a tartan house robe, where Draco had to assure him that he  _ had indeed  _ been at St Mungo's for the past fortnight. He had been allowed to go back to his dorm to sleep, he had assumed that the dorm layout had been the same as it was back in Fourth year and he was glad to see he was right. So much else had changed though. The castle itself was the same, as it always was and always would be, but there were subtle changes everywhere. The school was a lot emptier than he remembered it being in Fourth year, it seemed that at least a third of the students had left. He didn’t know how much of an effect the Dark Lord was having on the Wizarding World, he hadn’t had a chance to look into it just yet, but he supposed that he shouldn’t be too surprised about the Parent's reactions. From what he knew about the last war there were enough horror stories to scare even the Mudblood parents. Unfortunately it also meant that life as a Slytherin hadn’t improved, members of his house were being shunned and ostracised by the rest of the school, even some of the teachers were watching them with a careful eye. Which he didn’t think was entirely fair, not all of them came from Death Eater families.  
  
He had searched through his trunk the very next morning after returning to the school. A few things were new and unknown to him, there were some new shirts from a French label that he recognised, a small handheld oval mirror that complimented him (he hoped that it had been a gift and if anyone were to ask he would deny that he enjoyed it) and a few other miscellaneous knick-knacks, half a box of chocolates he knew he used to enjoy, a large opened pack of sugar quills, a new pair of seeker gloves, old course books and a stack of returned assignments. All in all, exactly what he would have expected to find in his school trunk. Draco had pulled out the Fifth year course books and set them to one side, he would need those if he was going to catch up. Dumbledore had told him that he had come second in the year in the OWLs, it was one of the reasons he had been allowed to continue in Sixth year rather than going back down to Fifth, that would have been humiliating. He had found the letter in his trunk during his first inspection and he was surprised at how well he had done. He supposed that Potters Mudblood girlfriend had been the one to beat him. He was glad his Father hadn’t been around to find that out, it would have taken him a long time to live it down.   
  
It took him another couple of minutes searching around his bed and the small side table before he came across the trunk stashed under his bed. It was made from a dark wood that he couldn’t recognise based on sight alone, and it was banded together with strips of forged iron, it wasn’t grand or over the top with decoration like some of his possessions usually were. He had expected to need an unlocking charm, but he had been able to swing the lid open easily, it seemed whatever it contained wasn’t important enough to be locked away. And all it contained, as far as Draco could tell, was books. They were all stacked neatly side by side in the internally expanded trunk, with their spines facing upwards so the titles could be read easily. As his eyes flitted from spine to spine, reading them one at a time, he noticed the one thing they all had in common, they were all Healing books. But why would he have a trunk full of Healing books? Surely this wasn’t what he had chosen to do? He ran his finger over some of the titles, some by famous Healers and Medi-Wizards, and some unknown and he tried so desperately to make the pieces fit. Sure, his Mother had taught him a couple of basic spells during the Christmas break last year (not last year, two years ago, in his Fourth year, he must try to remember that now), but that was as far as his medical knowledge had gone. He lifted a few books out to see what was under the first layer, and those were... _ Muggle?  _ Muggle books about anatomy, the human body,  _ Muggle  _ healing treatments. This wouldn't do, not at all. He had planned to go into the Ministry, and take over the Malfoy seats on the Wizangamot as his Father's successor. He closed the lid of the trunk, and pushed it back under his bed where he could forget that it ever existed.  
  
Draco blinked away the haze that had seeped over his vision as he thought about the past twelve hours. He found out that he had excelled in his OWLs, he had wanted to be a Healer, and he had been given his wand back. By Potter, no less. Speaking of Potter. Perfect motherfucking Potter. Perfect motherfucking Potter who had called him Draco. Fucking  _ Draco.  _ Since when was that a thing? Did he just go around the school calling him, Merlin forbid,  _ Harry _ ? He hoped not. If word got back to...Well he didn’t even want to think about what would happen if word got back that he was being chummy with Potter. Not to mention the insult to his Father's memory. He might not have been the most attentive Father (or even a good one), but he had been his Father, and he’d been told that Potter had gotten him killed. So he couldn’t, for the good of his Family name (and his own personal welfare), be friends with Harry Potter. He wouldn’t allow it.  
  
“Draco, what are you doing in here? Are you coming down to Dinner? It’s still at the same time everyday, I hope you haven’t forgotten that much?” Pansy came swanning into the boys dorm like she belonged there and she sat down on the edge of his bed, interrupting his thoughts and pulling him out of his own mind.  
  
“I haven’t forgotten what time Dinner is Pansy.” He rolled his eyes at her.  
  
“What are you doing down here?” She asked.  
  
“Trying to remember what the hell is going on with my life.” He said, with an honesty that he considered extremely out of character, but he knew he would need her help to get through the next couple of months, She used to be his closest friend and he hoped she still was, if anyone could help him piece his life together it would be Pansy.   
  
“Anything coming back to you?” He shook his head as a no and climbed off the other side of the bed.  
  
“Where were you Draco?” She asked him to his turned back, her tone was suddenly serious.  
  
“I was at St Mungo's, you know that.” He rounded the bed and made his way to the door without looking at her. He couldn't tell her the whole truth, she wouldn't understand.   
  
“Draco-” Pansy grabbed him as he tried to pass her to leave the dorm. Her fingers had barely closed around his forearm before he pushed her away with a pained hiss and no small amount of force.  
  
“What the fuck?!” She shouted as she stumbled backwards and almost tripped over the corner of his trunk.  
  
“You’ve got fucking talons for nails that’s what!” Draco explained with his right hand clasping his forearm tightly. It was the only indicator she needed. They both had been around people with the same symptoms for long enough.  
  
“Draco…” She whispered, her hands flew to her mouth and her next words escaped through her fingers, barely louder than a breath of air, “You haven’t-”  
  
“Dinner, Pansy?” He turned on his heel and swept out of the room without allowing her to finish her sentence, he knew that she would say something that she might regret.  
  
Dinner was  _ almost _ normal. Apart from the stunted conversation and the careful glances he was getting from Pansy. Crabbe and Goyle were stuffing their faces as per usual and Draco didn’t bother to comment like he normally would, for some reason he couldn’t quite bring himself to do more than curl his lip at their atrocious table manners. The tables were filled with the same fare as they always were, the Professors were seated at the head table as they always were (and Professor Snape being the Defence Professor was an interesting development), and the sky was dark and covered in a dull cloudy fog above their heads. All in all, normal. Except Potter, who was staring at him from the Gryffindor table. He was trying to hide it, but he was doing an awful job. After almost every bite of his meal he was looking up at him across the Hall. The first time Draco had caught his eye Potter had been on the receiving end of his most withering glare, but it didn’t seem to put him off. If anything, it amused him. So Draco moved on from glaring and he stuck a finger up at him, the universal sign for fuck off. When not even that was enough to deter the speccy git he decided to ignore him.  
  
Or he tried to.  
  
Because those ridiculous green eyes were watching his every move. And he had to ignore the small niggle in the back of his mind that was telling him something was missing, and the fluttering in the pit of his stomach whenever Potter caught his eye. He  _ didn’t _ like it when Potter looked at him. He  _ couldn’t  _ like it. Not after...Everything. Especially not after the past two weeks. He was just a little bit attractive. That was all. Fourth year Harry Potter was suddenly a Sixth year Harry Potter, and that had been a rather fortunate change for the Golden boy. Draco could admit that much, though it was a thought that would stay buried deep in the back of his mind, never to be spoken of. His life was on the line now, and he wouldn’t throw his life away on behalf of some stupid Gryffindor fool.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A short yet important chapter.  
> I'm sorry. Don't hate me!  
> :)


	20. Chapter 20

In the days following his return to Hogwarts Draco realised one thing, Harry Potter was a stubborn bastard. No matter how many times Draco glared at him, swore at him, or insulted him, Potter was there, hovering. Watching.  _ Smiling _ . Smiling so widely and freely that Draco had to check behind him to make sure that it really was him that Potter’s smile was aimed at. And Potter had taken to calling him Draco, like they were friends or something. He said it so casually too, they’d be walking towards each other in the corridor and Draco would be mentally preparing the most cutting insult he could possibly think of (maybe something about his glasses or his Mudblood friends) and the insult would die on his tongue because Potter would turn to him as they became level, he would smile and say “ _ Hey Draco _ ” before passing him by and carrying on the conversation with the people around him.   
  
Hey Draco _ ,  _ that was it.  _ Hey Draco.  
  
_ “Why is Potter calling you Draco?” Blaise had asked him one day, when Potter and his entourage had passed them in the corridor.  
  
“I have no fucking clue. I was hoping you could tell me.” Draco said, as he glanced over his shoulder to watch Potter walking away from him, “Has he become obsessed with me recently or something?”  
  
“Not that I know of. He was normal before you came back. Just the same self-righteous twat he always was.”  
  
He didn’t get it and something definitely wasn’t adding up, Potter didn’t just suddenly decide to call him Draco. The worst thing was Draco kind of liked it, he always got this curl of pleasure in his stomach, and a little fizz of something pleasant in the back of his mind. He tried not to think about it too much he didn’t want to give merit to anything he was feeling right now, after everything that had happened recently it made sense that he was a little emotionally messed up.  
  
Draco was making his way to the Library early on Saturday morning, his arms were full of last year's books. It was course content that he now had to go through independently in order to catch up with the rest of his year mates, he had promised that he would be able to but he half wished he had just taken the year again. He was quickly starting to become overwhelmed with the amount of assignments he was receiving from his Sixth year classes as well as the masses of work he was having to do to catch up on his lost year.   
  
Draco turned the corner onto the third floor corridor, without bothering to check his surroundings, he was so sure no one would be about at this time on a Saturday morning. That had been a mistake. The moment he turned the corner he crashed straight into someone, he stumbled back a few steps and the books he had stacked precariously in his arms went flying, skidding across the flagstone floor in all directions.  
  
“Fuck! Shit, I’m sorry!” A large hand clasped around his right elbow to steady him on his feet.  
  
“Watch where you’re going, you fucking imbecile.” Draco spat as he regained his balance, he knocked the hand away from his arm and finally looked up at said imbecile. Fucking Potter. Of course. He was dressed in his scarlet Quidditch robes, one hand was clutched around the long handle of his Firebolt and his other hand continued to hover next to Draco’s arm. Potter was leaning close to him looking concerned at his almost fall and almost entirely in Draco’s personal space. All Draco could focus on was the bright, silver, Captain badge pinned to his chest right above the Gryffindor logo.  
  
“You were made Gryffindor Captain?” Draco asked, suddenly forgetting that all of his things were scattered across the ground, and forgetting that his personal space was being invaded.  
  
“Yes,” Potter grinned proudly, “Are you okay, Draco?”   
  
“I’m fine, no thanks to you.” Draco said stiffly. He bent down and began to collect all of his books without making eye contact with the green eyes that seemed to follow him everywhere these days.  
  
“I’m sorry about that. I wasn’t looking where I was going. Do you need a hand?” Harry gestured to the books he was picking up and went to reach for one that was close to his feet, but Draco got there first and he snatched it up and away from Potter’s hands.  
  
“I don’t need anything from you.” Draco glared at him as he picked up his last textbook and straightened to his feet.  
  
“Have it your way, Draco.” Potter shrugged but his mouth was turned up in a small smile.  
  
“And stop calling me that!” Draco stomped his foot in a way that reminded him of a toddler, he was slightly embarrassed to do such a thing in front of Potter, but if he noticed he wasn’t saying anything.  
  
“Stop calling you what?” Potter looked confused. He looked good even when he was confused. No he didn’t. He looked bad. Very bad.  
  
“Stop calling me Draco!”  
  
“But...It’s your name?” Harry questioned slowly, clearly not understanding Draco's point at all.  
  
“ _Y_ _ ou _ don’t call me by my name,  _ you _ call me Malfoy and  _ I _ call you Potter. Why do you insist on calling me by my first name?” Draco watched Potter’s face soften and he took a step closer, closing in on Draco’s personal space once again without a care in the world. Draco realised if Potter was going to insist on moving closer then he should probably step back. Any moment now, he would step back.  
  
“I once promised you I wouldn’t call you Malfoy,” Potter’s fingers closed around Draco’s wrist, “You might not remember, but I do and the past year has taught me that promises can be pretty powerful things.” Potter's fingers were slowly sliding from his wrist and drifting towards his open palm. Draco was frozen in place. His right arm was holding the stack of books tightly to his chest while his left was slowly being manipulated until Potter's fingers were gently sliding between his own. This was definitely a new development.   
  
“Don’t.” Draco snapped. He snatched his hand away and shook his sleeve down to cover his wrist once again. He didn’t want anyone touching him there, least of all Potter.  
  
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to-” Potter pulled back quickly, and looked at Draco with sad puppy dog eyes and a forlorn expression.  
  
“Harry!” Weasley was jogging down the corridor towards Potter, also with a broom in hand, Draco briefly wondered what position Weasley had been given on the team, before remembering that he wasn’t supposed to care. He took a step back away from Potter when Weasley was close enough to see who his friend was talking to, “Come on Mate, the rest of the team will be waiting. Can we help you Ferret face?” Weasley scowled at him, but he didn’t flinch. He had been on the receiving end of his Father’s dead eye enough times, and his Father was infinitely more intimidating than that ginger prick.  
  
“I highly doubt that.” Draco sneered, and he shouldered his way past Weasley to head towards the Library. He didn’t need to look behind him to know that Potter was watching him walk away. He did that a lot these days.  
  
X  
  
Draco had found the book in the drawer of his bedside cabinet his first day back at Hogwarts, but he hadn’t had a chance to really look at it until now. It was a heavy thing, with good quality parchment, inside a burnished red dragonhide cover with a silver dragon emblem on the front. The dragon swiped its tail from side to side as he inspected it. If he wasn’t mistaken this was some kind of journal, but the pages were empty, and there was a plain mirror attached to the inside of the front cover for some strange reason. He supposed that it had been a gift that he had just kept hold of. He could feel the magic imbued into the lock, privacy charms he supposed, anti-thieving charms maybe. He toyed with the quill he was holding, he had a lot on his mind and maybe writing his thoughts down would actually help? At the very least he could keep track of all the questions he had. But if anyone were to get hold of it he couldn’t be sure how strong the enchantments were. There were some things that shouldn’t be written down.  
  
_ What have I missed?  _ Draco began to write.  
  
_ Why is Potter acting weird?  
  
_ And then he wrote.  
  
_ Have I made a mistake?  
  
_ His hands shook, his fingers were trembling so much that he could barely hold the quill anymore. Maybe this hadn’t been such a good idea, maybe it was best that he not dwell on it too much, he couldn’t change what he had done after all. He couldn’t retrieve the memories he had lost. He was best not to ponder on it. He closed the journal with a sharp snap and he stuffed it back where he had found it. He wanted to burn it, throw it into the fire and forget it ever existed. But the craft work alone made him pause, he knew that dragonhide could only be hand stitched and it would be a travesty for such a wonderful piece of craft to be destroyed.   
  
“Why Draco?” The single question came from the doorway. He looked up to where Pansy was standing, looking at him with sad eyes.  
  
“I had to.” He stared out of the green tinged window that looked into the depths of the lake and followed something that was floating past to avoid looking at her directly. He couldn’t take her sorrow. He didn’t deserve it.  
  
“You could have said no.” She said.  
  
“You don’t say no to him, he doesn’t take kindly to no.” Draco replied. He knew exactly what she was talking about, there wasn’t any point attempting to hide it from her any longer.  
  
“Did you want it?” She asked, as she took a couple more steps into the room, finally allowing the door to close behind her and ensuring that their conversation remained private.  
  
“I don’t know.” He answered as she took a seat next to him.  
  
“All that effort we went to the summer after fourth year. We tried so hard to stay away.”  
  
“I know. It’s one of the last things I remember.” Draco bumped his shoulder against hers softly.  
  
“Guess we couldn’t stay kids forever, right?” Pansy rubbed her eyes and Draco looked away once again to give her the privacy of wiping away the tears that had collected in the corners of her eyes.  
  
“What was I like last year?” Draco asked.  
  
“You...You kept to yourself I think. You weren’t around that much, I know you were in classes but I can’t really remember hanging out with you.”  
  
“Did we have an argument or something?” Draco couldn’t really think of another reason that would have pushed them apart so much.  
  
“I don’t think so, I think you might have been in the Library a lot. You came second in our year in the OWLs you know.”  
  
“I’ve heard.”  
  
“Did you know I wanted to be a Healer?” He asked her out of the blue, finally looking at her and searching for any excuse to switch the conversation to something a little lighter.  
  
“Did you? No, you never mentioned it to me. How did you find that out?” She asked with no small amount of interest.  
  
“Look at this.” Draco stood up by the side of his bed and reached under to pull the trunk towards him. She leaned over the side as he opened the lid and showed her the contents.  
  
“Healing books?” Pansy asked. She ran a perfectly manicured nail down the spines, reading them one by one as her fingernail passed over.  
  
“I can’t think of any other reason why I would have these. Look...” He pulled off a few books from the top layer to show her the ones neatly lined below.  
  
“Are those muggle?” She slid to her knees, landing gracefully on the floor next to the trunk and looked at him in worry, “You need to get rid of these! If anyone finds them…” She trailed off, she didn’t need to finish that sentence for Draco to know exactly what she was talking about. His allegiances had been decided, and if anyone were to find him with muggle items it would not end well for him.  
  
"I know." He had considered burning them along with the journal, but something had held him back. He couldn't be sure what. Maybe because of the knowledge they held? Or perhaps a small part of him remembered who they were from. His Mother perhaps? She always understood the limitations of the Wizarding World and the importance of understanding Muggles. He shut the lid quickly, and used the strongest locking charm he knew to keep the trunk sealed shut and away from prying eyes.  
  
“Don’t show anyone.” Pansy said as she pulled the edge of the sheet down to cover the space under his bed and conceal the trunk beneath it.  
  
“Pansy?” Draco said in a voice so small and weak that he couldn’t believe it had actually come from him. She looked at him with a soft expression. “I’m not sure I can do this.” He leaned back against the side of his bed but he didn’t bother to stand up, for some reason sitting on the floor and whispering back and forth to each other felt more private than any other place in the entire school.  
  
“What do you need to do?”  
  
“I can’t say, it’s something important.” Draco didn’t offer any more information and Pansy knew better than to ask, “The thing is, it made me feel important.  _ He _ made me feel important, until I got this,” Draco flexed his arm, “And then I was nothing.” Draco remembered being praised and honoured, he had been seated at  _ his _ right side, he felt like he was taking over from his Father. Bringing honour to his family name. Then afterwards he remembered being escorted to his room in the manor, with a Death Eater at either side of him and being locked in his room until Yaxley came to bring him back to the school. Practically a prisoner in his own home, and no longer praised or honoured.  
  
“From what I’ve heard that’s what he’s good at, charming people. A lot of Witches and Wizards older and more powerful than you have fallen for it, Draco. No one can blame you.”  
  
“I know a lot of people who would.” Draco admitted. Pansy took his hand and held on tightly.  
  
“All we need to do is survive.” She whispered as she leaned her head against his shoulder, “I won’t allow us to die in this war, we’re both far too pretty.” Draco laughed and leaned his cheek against her temple, he really loved Pansy.


	21. Chapter 21

The Quidditch season started on the last Saturday in October, the ground was dry and firm, the sky was overcast and there was a chill that signified the coming end of Autumn. And Draco was glad that he was naturally a very good flyer, it meant that he could go into the first game of the season with only a few practices under his belt and still be a pretty decent player. Not only had he lost the memory of his Fifth year, but Quidditch had been cancelled in Fourth year as well, so that was two years of no Quidditch, but it hadn’t seemed to affect his performance that much. If only they hadn’t been playing against Gryffindor. He knew he didn’t have much chance of catching the Snitch against Potter so his general goal of the game was to distract him long enough for Slytherin to gain a 150 point lead.   
  
“Are you with us Malfoy?” Urquhart asked from his place at the front of the team.  
  
“Yes.” Draco gripped his broom even tighter.  
  
“You aren’t traumatised or anything? You did fall off your broom less than two months ago.”  
  
“It’s a good job I can’t remember it then, isn’t it?” Draco threw his shoulders back and brought himself up to his full height so he could stare down the line of players to meet Urquharts eyes.  
  
“You’ve missed a lot of practices.” The Captain pointed out, but he wasn’t about to bench his only Seeker and they both knew that, “But you were a great player last year, I hope you can tap into that even if you don’t remember.”  
  
“I can handle Potter.” Draco said as he tightened his dragonhide gloves around his wrists. Urquhart looked at him for a long second, he didn’t know the seventh year well enough to determine what he was thinking, but whatever he was looking for in Draco must have passed his inspection, because he gave a short sharp nod and turned back to the opening that would lead them towards the pitch. Draco mounted his Nimbus 2001 and he followed the rest of the team as they flew out onto the pitch one by one. Draco absentmindedly scanned his eyes across the crowd as they circled. As usual three quarters of the school were cheering for the Gryffindor team, but as they passed over the Slytherin stands their house gave them a massive roar of approval. As they flew into their positions, with the two teams forming a circle and the Seekers hovering above them, Draco finally came face to face with Potter.  Potter was smiling at him, with that damned infuriating grin of his that seemed to always be pointing in Draco’s direction.  
  
“Good luck Draco.” Potter called across to him.  
  
“Fuck off Potter.” Potter just chuckled at him.  
  
Madam Hooch blew the whistle and they were off.  
  
X  
  
Harry watched over his team like a hawk for the first five minutes of the game, for some of them it was their first game and this was where he found out whether he had chosen the right players or not. His Chasers were solid, Ginny and Katie had worked their asses off to bring Demelza Robins up to scratch. She was fast though, and she could dodge Bludgers with only a split second of notice, she only needed to be taught a few of their most successful plays and she was fitting right in with the other two seasoned players. His Beaters had been much harder to replace, there was just no one out there who could match the Weasley Twins for skill or teamwork. Harry had finally decided on Jimmy Peakes and Ritchie Coote, they were fresh but they had some power that would do just nicely when they were facing off with the Bludgers.  
  
“Keep it tight Demelza!” Harry yelled down to her when she lost the Quaffle to Zabini. She was doing well but Harry could see her getting intimidated by the larger and more ferocious Slytherin players. Harry briefly watched Blaise fly away, last year Draco had told Montague to consider putting Blaise on the team when Warrington was forced out of the school, out of spite the Slytherin Captain had ignored him and they had lost the match. He shouldn’t have, Blaise really was a fair Chaser.  
  
He left his team to it after that, he wished he could coach them through the whole game but he had a Snitch to find and Draco wasn’t someone to be underestimated. He had been worried that Draco wouldn’t be allowed back on the team after losing so much of his memory, and the so-called massive accident he'd had during Quidditch practice. But he needn’t have worried, Draco’s talent spoke for itself after all. Harry blocked out the commentators-  
  
_ "Weasley blocks another!”  _

_ "Vaisley in possession, passes off to Zabini - and a Bludger knocks it out of possession. Nice hit from the new Gryffindor Beater Peakes. Giving the Weasley Twins legacy a run for its money.”  
  
_ Out of the corner of his eye he could see Draco circling, for some reason he wasn’t searching for the Snitch. Harry could see him glancing over at him every now and then, watching his progress rather than sweeping the skies for the Snitch. Harry was starting to cotton onto his game. Every time Harry dipped low Draco followed, when he pulled up and rose to the height of the tallest stand, a second later Draco was flying up until he was on the same level. He was staying at the other side of the pitch, but he was definitely mirroring Harry’s movements.   
  
_ “Robins in possession passes to - No intercepted! Dazzling display by new Slytherin Captain Uruqhart.”  
  
_ Something glinted to the left of him. Harry swerved his Firebolt around to get a better look but just as he was angling his broom to follow the glint, Draco dived. His movement was fast enough for Harry’s head to snap in his direction to see if he had spotted the Snitch.  
  
_ “Has Malfoy spotted the Snitch?!” _   
  
Draco pulled out of the dive and began to drift about once again. That little git. Harry knew exactly what he was doing. He was going to pretend to see the Snitch whenever Harry’s attention was caught. Sneaky sneaky Slytherin. Harry was more than happy to turn his own strategy against him.  
  
“ _ Bell scores! Gryffindor leads 70 to 40.”  
  
_ Harry scanned the sky, he paused and stared at a random point in the distance, pretending that he had caught sight of the Snitch. He shot forward, the sudden acceleration was exactly what the Firebolt had been made for. He could see Draco scrabbling to follow him from the other side of the pitch but if Harry had actually seen the Snitch he wouldn’t have been close enough to do anything about it.  
  
_ “Potter goes for the Snitch!”  
  
_ Harry pulled out of the acceleration with a flourished barrel roll.  
  
_ “It was a feint! Potter and Malfoy giving each other a run for their money today folks.”  
  
_ Harry smirked at Draco who had finally reached him, it was a smirk that he was ripping off from Draco himself. Not that the Slytherin knew that.  
  
“Took you long enough to get here.” Harry grinned at him.  
  
“Go fuck yourself Potter.” Draco spat and he turned his broom and fled to the other side of the pitch once more. Harry’s laughter followed him.  
  
“ _ Zabini scores! Slytherin’s 110 points gaining on Gryffindors 130 _ .”  
  
_ “Weasley takes a Bludger!”  _ Harry craned his neck around, which Weasley? Has he just lost his Keeper or his Chaser?  
  
_ “Gryffindor loses its Keeper!”  
  
_ Harry called a time out as he streamed to the base of the Gryffindor goalposts, the whistle echoed across the stadium and by the time Harry reached Rons side the rest of the Gryffindor team were landing heavily and rushing to his side.  
  
“I can still play.” Ron insisted, but he was making no attempt to stand, “I can!"  
  
“Where did you get hit?” Harry asked, as he crouched down by Ron’s side.  
  
“I’m good.” Ron tried to push himself up but his arm crumpled underneath him and his broom lay in two pieces around him.  
  
“You can’t play.” Harry said, he held a hand out to help him to his feet and Ginny rushed forward to help steady him.  
  
“I can.”  
  
“You can’t even stand, go to Pomfrey and get yourself fixed up.”  
  
“We’ll take him.” Harry didn’t notice Hermione approaching until she was taking Harry’s place at Ron’s side, Neville took over from Ginny and pulled Ron’s arm over his shoulder.   
  
“The game?” Ron said with unfocused eyes.  
  
“We’ll still win the game.” Demelza said from behind them and Katie nodded fiercely next to her.  
  
“See mate, all good without you. We barely even need you.”  
  
“Fuck you Harry.” Ron said as he hobbled away between the two Gryffindors. As soon as he was out of earshot Harry turned back to his team mates.  
  
“Without a Keeper we’re fucked, the Slytherins are playing a good game today and their new Captain is keeping it clean so we won’t be getting any penalty shots.” Harry said, “Jimmy, Ritchie, keep those Bludgers flying. I don’t want them straying any further than ten feet from their Chasers and I don’t want their Beaters getting even one hit in.” The two Beaters nodded, “You’re new to the team, but you watched the Weasley Twins, I want you both to be that good. It’s a lot to live up to but I don’t doubt you.”  
  
“You three. You’re doing great but...Demelza, don’t back down from their Chasers, if they’re blocking your way fly at them and swerve at the last second, you’re smaller than all of them which means you’re faster. Katie, you’ve played against the Slytherins the most and you know their plays the best. I need you to take point on this. Ginny, Demelza, follow her lead, fall into formation quickly and make your passes as accurate as possible. We absolutely can do this, I picked you all for a reason. Make Gryffindor proud.”  
  
“Potter?” Hooch called over, “Is your team ready to continue.”   
  
“We’re ready.”  
  
“Players up!” Harry mounted his Firebolt and kicked off.  
  
“Harry!” Ginny yelled to him in the split second before Madam Hooch blew the whistle, he craned his neck around to see what she wanted, “Catch the Snitch, yeah?”  
  
“No problem Gin.” Harry grinned and sped off as soon as the whistle blew.  
  
From then on Harry detached his mind from what Draco was doing and concentrated whole heartedly on finding the Snitch. He needed to end this game as quickly as possible before his Beaters became tired and his Chasers became overrun. It didn’t take long, Demelza and Ginny had both scored another goal each but the Slytherins had managed to get four more dead on target, bringing their score almost equal. Now that he was concentrating properly the glint of gold from twenty feet below him was obvious. Draco was closer, but Harry’s broom was faster.   
  
The catch was almost too easy. Draco was still ten feet away by the time Harry’s hand closed around the little golden ball.  
  
_ “Potter catches the Snitch! Gryffindor wi- ROGUE BLUDGER!”  
  
_ The crunch of the Bludger hitting something was far too close for it to be anyone else. It was Draco, it just  _ had  _ to be Draco.   
  
_ “Peakes’ rogue bludger hits the Slytherin Seeker, and Malfoy is off his broom!”  
  
_ Harry pointed his broom in the right direction and dived, they were still thirty feet above the ground at the very least and Draco was falling quickly. He wasn’t losing him again! They had been flying so close together and Harry hadn’t been that far away when the Bludger had struck.  
  
_ “Potter dives to save Malfoy!”  _ Even though the game was officially over the commentator was still narrating.   
  
Harry was so close now. He reached out and caught Draco. In one fluid move, and no small amount of upper arm strength, he pulled Draco’s falling body into his side and dragged him half across his broom. Harry decelerated quickly and slowly drifted towards the ground. He vaguely heard the commentator announcing his save but he didn’t care, he was burying his head into Draco’s gorgeous blonde hair and breathing in that scent that Amortentia emulated whenever he was around. For a split second Harry could pretend that this was his Draco.  
  
“Are you okay?” Harry asked into blonde hair. This was as close as they had gotten since Draco had disappeared. It had been weeks, and Harry was trying not to drown in him.  
  
“Yes.”  
  
“Anything broken?”  
  
“Just my broom.”  
  
“I’m sorry.”  
  
Draco then seemed to realise who he was with because he turned to look at Harry. They were face to face now, hovering so close to each other that their noses were almost touching. Harry had been in this position many times before, but Draco hadn’t and Harry could chart the way his pupils were dilating, and the way his tongue was darting out to wet his lips. Harry wanted to lean forward and press their lips together, in any other situation he would have, but for this version of Draco it would be too overwhelming. So Harry just looked at him and took him in.  
  
“Control your fucking Beaters Potter.” He said, but there was none of the usual heat behind his words.  
  
“I’ll do that.” Harry landed and Draco was quick to climb off the broom and put as much distance between them as possible.  
  
Harry watched him for two seconds but then he was rounding on Peakes and laying into him about hitting the damn Bludger after the game was fucking over, and that they were lucky to be allowed to keep their win. He was so busy yelling at his Beaters that he didn’t notice Draco watching him from afar, wondering to himself why the bloody fuck did Potter even care?


	22. Chapter 22

Snow had fallen over Hogwarts, it blanketed the castle and its grounds with a thick layer of white fluff. Harry was glad for it, it meant that he wasn’t aching to be outside on his broom when he was in the Library with Hermione. They had so much work to do for classes and Hermione had to carve time out of her revision schedule to help him with his research in the restricted section. Harry knew if he was going to get anywhere he would need Hermione. She had an ability to pick up a book and determine whether it was useful or not within five seconds, the same thing took Harry five minutes. Twice a week Hermione would pick through the Restricted Section, pulling out as many books as she could before her free time was up and she needed to go back to her school work. Then Harry would look through those books in much more detail, slowly eliminating them one by one until Hermione was free to pull out another massive stack. Usually they were the only two in the Restricted Section, once or twice a Professor would pass through the dusty shelves for their own personal research, or the more rare occasion of a Seventh year being escorted by Madam Pince to whichever book they had requested.  
  
Harry didn’t enjoy being in that part of the Library, he was completely surrounded by shelves that towered above his head, each one covered by a thick layer of dust. He was surprised that Madam Pince would allow her precious books to get into such a state, Hermione had said that some of the books were so fragile and sensitive to outside magic that it was impossible to use cleaning charms around them, and Harry was happy to defer to her expertise on the subject. Their continued presence in that part of the Library was only indicated by the trails they left in the dust as they pulled out book after book. By this point there were whole shelves that had been dusted off by the continuous dragging of heavy tomes in and out of their places, and the centre of the aisles they had visited were trodden clean by their constant up and down pacing. It made it easy for them to see where they had been and where they needed to go next, without the need to place any kind of marker on the shelves.  
  
Today was one of the days where Hermione had rushed in to join him behind the floor to ceiling brass gates that separated the two sections of the Library. Madam Pince eyed them warily every time they bypassed the _Restricted Section_ sign, but after checking their note the first four times she had stopped accusing them of forging Dumbledore’s signature. Harry had the suspicion that she had even visited the Headmaster in his office just to double check. For once he actually didn’t blame her, he was sure that no one in the entire History of Hogwarts had ever been allowed carte balance over the Restricted Section.   
  
“Where were we up to?” She asked as she draped her bag and outer robe over one of the two spindly chairs that were set up next to the single small study table that had been provided in that area of the library. She rolled up the sleeves of her school shirt and bundled her wild hair up in a large bun at the back of her head.  
  
“Third row, last aisle.” Harry said as he scanned through the last couple of books in his pile before placing them to one side, “These are useless too.”  
  
“Still nothing?” She asked, as she hurried down the long shelves to begin pulling out books again.  
  
“No. I’ve kept the one with all the origins of Obliviate, I think that might have some use. But apart from that I’m not seeing anything here that applies to what we need.” Harry picked up the two books he had discarded and followed Hermione down the rows so he could slot the two books back into their places.  
  
“Have you narrowed down the search?” She asked as she pulled out her first book of the evening. They had been searching for any mention of widespread memory charms, person, or item specific memory charms, or really just anything that mentioned memory charms at all, in the vague hope that there would be some innocuous sentence that would lead them somewhere new.  
  
“I really have no idea where to start.”  
  
“Malfoy had to have been hit by a regular Memory Charm, we know that much.” Hermione was already moving through the first shelf of books at a rapid rate. They had figured out that Draco hadn’t been included in the widespread memory loss, everyone else at least remembered their last year of life, whereas for Draco it was a full memory charm, erasing everything from the past year, “The Obliviate book will be helpful, we may be able to reverse his memory.”  
  
“Has that ever been done before?” Harry asked, remembering the Memory wing of St Mungo's and the confused face of Gilderoy Lockhart who resided there.  
  
“It’s not impossible, but it’s difficult. It definitely depends on how powerful the original memory charm was in the first place, I think the mental connection you have will help a lot.”  
  
“So we just need to worry about everyone else?”  
  
“For the time being. Not just for Malfoy’s sake either, Voldemort wanted him for something.” Hermione moved onto the next row down and she passed a couple of books over to Harry to put to one side, “Whatever he wants Malfoy for is important enough to take him from Hogwarts and alter the last year of his life.”  
  
“That’s what I thought too and Dumbledore agreed.” Harry said.  
  
“I think you should ask Dumbledore to start your lessons.” Hermione said after a moment or two of silence, “I didn’t understand why you asked him to put them on hold before, but I get it now, and as much as I want you to have your version of Malfoy back, the lessons with Dumbledore are important.”  
  
“I know they are. I just...Couldn’t think about anything for a while." The shuffling of books stopped but Harry didn't look up to meet Hermione's gaze as he tried to put his emotions into words, "Losing him…broke me a little."  
  
"And now?" She asked, her voice barely above a whisper. It was rare for Harry to lay his feelings out for her and she was being careful not to ruin the moment that had fallen over them.  
  
"I decided that any version of Draco was better than no version of Draco."   
  
X  
  
Draco had chosen a table in the Library that was as far away from the entrance as possible. It was nestled right in the corner, between the brass grill of the Restricted Section and the shelves containing Alchemy research. Barely anyone came this far down for a table so he knew he wouldn't be disturbed. He had a lot of work to catch up on. When it came to the Fifth year curriculum he only needed to revise the subjects he had chosen for his NEWTs, which made a few things a little easier. He had set himself a target of learning all of the theory for the spells from Charms, Transfiguration and Defence Against the Dark Arts before Christmas. After Christmas he was planning on revising all the Potions, as well as catching up on Ancient Runes and Arithmancy. He had more time next term so he was saving the more challenging subjects for then. He just wished he had full use of his magic so he could actually cast the spells. He hadn't approached any professor about it just yet, he knew he'd have to soon though, he would fail his practical exams if he couldn't figure it out before the end of the year.  
  
As for today's library session, he was planning on finishing off his most recent Defence assignment, and then moving onto Fifth year Charms. But he had barely written two sentences when someone saying his name caught his attention.  
  
" _Malfoy had to be hit by a regular memory charm.”  
  
_ He twisted around to see who could possibly be talking about him, sounds tended not to travel that far in a Library so whoever it was had to be close. He listened for a few more seconds as the stranger's conversation continued. They were talking about memory charms and Obliviate, and he had no idea why. He had lost his memory through a Quidditch accident after all, and as far as anyone else knew he had been at St Mungo's for the entire duration of his time away from Hogwarts. He was the only one who knew that he’d only been in St Mungo's for a week before being collected and taken to the Dark Lord's side.   
  
_"Voldemort wanted him for something.”_ Or he thought that only he had known, himself and the Death Eaters in attendance of course.  
  
The voices were coming from behind him, from the Restricted Section. He tried to peek through the bars but whoever was there, was completely hidden from view by the tall bookshelves and the darkened depths. The voices were moving away from him now. He wanted to ignore them. Every part of him was telling him to keep his head down and not get involved. But he found himself standing up, and skirting down the metal barrier, following the muffled sound of voices as they moved down the aisle. There were only a handful of people who actually said the Dark Lord's name and Draco had a sneaking suspicion that he knew exactly who was on the other side of the gate, but that didn’t mean that he was about to let the subject lie, he needed to know if they suspected anything else. If his cover was blown then he would need to leave the school immediately. Draco’s hand was on the gate before he could even stop himself. But a loud clearing of a throat behind him stopped him in his tracks.  
  
“Do you have a permission slip to enter the Restricted Section?” The Librarian asked him with pursed lips and pinched cheeks as she bore down on him, she was shorter than him but for some reason Draco felt like she was looking down at him.  
  
“No.” Draco met her eyes head on and brought himself up to his full height, he wasn’t about to be chased away like some first year.  
  
“I suggest you move away.” She glared at him, he returned it with a sneer. But he turned away and went back to his table anyway, it wouldn’t do to draw attention to himself.   
  
He was acting like some kind of idiotic Gryffindor lately. He didn’t need to give a shit about what people thought of him. He knew he didn’t have anything to worry about, they didn’t know what he was doing, if they did he wouldn’t be sat in the Library studying, he would be getting escorted up to Dumbledore's office and arrested on the spot. He didn’t give a shit if they were talking about him, he was better than them. He was better than all of them, and he had something far more important to worry about than winning Quidditch and passing NEWTs. He had to stop thinking about Potter and he had to concentrate on the tasks he had been given. Failure was absolutely not an option.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another short one I'm afraid. But we're gearing up for a little bit of drama, so hold onto your hats! Haha
> 
> Love you all, thank you for the wonderful wonderful comments. I read and appreciate every single one and I reply where I can. Next chapter is a little bit of fan service after seeing our boys in so much pain ;)
> 
> (Also, the formatting really fucks up when you put italics inside speech marks and I do this a lot. I'm working on the formatting and trying to figure out how to stop it from doing that, so bear with me for the formatting with speech marks and italics because I'm aware it's coming out a little weird)
> 
> <3


	23. Chapter 23

Harry had been surprised when he had heard the Hogsmeade trip announcement for the first weekend in November, he hadn’t expected Dumbledore to allow any of them off the school grounds at a time like this. The morning of the trip dawned bright and early, with the winter sun just barely breaking through the fog and bouncing off the bright snow of the untouched grounds. It must have snowed again overnight, covering the tracks of yesterday's students going to and from Care of Magical Creatures, and hiding Hagrid's great footprints along the edge of the Forbidden Forest.   
  
Harry and Ron woke early as they always did on a Hogsmeade weekend, and they went down to breakfast together in high spirits. Like the rest of the students old enough to visit the village they were excited to be spending the day somewhere other than the four walls of the castle. It was one of the few days that they knew Hermione wouldn't be on them to do work. Even she knew that they all needed a break every now and then.   
  
"You and Hermione have been down in the Library a lot." Ron pointed out over a plate of sausages and bacon. If Harry didn't know any better he would have said that Ron sounded a little...jealous? At first they had invited him along, expecting him to refuse (which he had) and ever since then they had just feigned ignorance and pretended that they weren’t doing anything at all, and since Ron would never willingly go to the Library they didn’t have to worry about him coming to find them. As long as Hermione continued to lend him her study books he would continue not to have a reason to find his own.  
  
"We've got a lot of work this year. Just trying to keep on top of it all." Harry said with a small shrug. Harry wanted to tell him, but he wasn’t ready yet.  
  
"Right. You're not…" Ron trailed off and Harry looked at him with a raised eyebrow.   
  
"What?" He said after swallowing his mouthful of bacon.  
  
"You know…" Harry stared at him blankly, he didn’t know, "Doing other stuff as well?" Ron finished with a rather aggressive spear to an innocent sausage.  
  
"What? Ew, no." Not only was he gay but Hermione was one of his best friends, and as much as he loved and adored her, he definitely had no urge to be with her that way. But something was telling Harry that Ron might.  
  
"Ew? She's not all bad you know."  
  
"Why do you care? Aren't you and Lavender crazy for each other?" Harry said, he was teasing of course. They had been attached at the mouth ever since their last Quidditch win but Harry could see how the ditsy girl was grating on Ron's nerves. He wasn’t blind to the fact that every time she started talking Ron would roll his eyes and then start to kiss her to shut her up. She had been nice enough last year in the DA meetings, but it seemed like actually liking someone had turned her into a bit of a mess.  
  
"I don't care. I just would like to know if my best friends are doing stuff behind my back."  
  
"Mate…" Harry already had this conversation with Ron once, he just hoped it went just as well as it did last time, "I'm gay."  
  
"Oh. You should have said." And he left it at that, but Harry wasn't imagining the way he bit into a slice of bacon with new found vigour. Harry just shook his head at him with a wry grin, Ron wasn’t fooling anyone except himself.  
  
"Good morning." Hermione broke their comfortable silence by greeting them both and taking a seat next to Harry. Ron mumbled a good morning back and Harry had to roll his eyes at his friends. He hoped that they would get their shit together by the end of the year and just get together because he couldn't deal with more of this back and forth jealousy that always seemed to crop up whenever they both found someone else to snog.  
  
"I don't think we should go out for too long today." Hermione said in her usual no-nonsense tone, "You're too much of a target Harry. Frankly I'm surprised you're being allowed to leave the castle at all."  
  
"Even if they tried to stop me I'd just sneak out. Can only take so much of all of this, it's getting depressing in here." He was referring to the two students who had been escorted from the Great Hall during dinner the evening before. Harry had learnt that the siblings were being taken out of Hogwarts because Death Eaters had attacked their family. Harry had walked past them crying and hugging their friends in the Entrance Hall, with packed trunks next to them and a stern McGonagall standing nearby to assist with their departure. Harry hadn't said a word as he'd passed, but that didn't stop the friends of the older third year sibling from whispering about him.  
  
"Honestly Harry, you're so bull headed." Hermione said. He already knew he was, Draco had told him enough times. Although with slightly more fondness than Hermione was displaying.   
  
X  
  
The three of them were leaving the castle when Harry remembered the lump of Slytherin scarf that he had shoved into his pocket before leaving the dorm that morning. Draco was standing to one side on the top step in front of the Main Entrance. He was looking out at the white snow with a curled lip and a sneer. Harry couldn't forget that Draco didn't like the cold. He had the collar of his coat turned up, blocking the wind chill from curling around the back of his neck and making its way down under his many layers. His hands were stuffed deep into his pockets but Harry knew that he would be wearing those expensive suede gloves that were perfectly tailored to fit his long slender fingers.  
  
"Er, you two go on ahead. I just need to speak to Dumbledore for a minute." He didn't. He'd already sent Dobby with a note asking to resume his one on one lessons last night, but they didn't need to know that.  
  
"Do you want us to wait?" Hermione asked.  
  
"No it's fine. I'll catch up to you."   
  
Harry ducked back into the Entrance Hall and waited until Ron and Hermione had disappeared out of the courtyard. He pulled the green and silver scarf out of his pocket and looked down at the expensive wool with fondness, he would have loved to keep it. Hell, he would have loved to wear it. But it didn’t belong to him and he should probably return it to its rightful owner. After all, he didn't want Draco to suffer through the cold all day. He approached the Slytherin from behind and with a single movement he dropped the scarf around Draco’s neck. He wished there was a more romantic way to do it, if he had his magic he could have levitated the scarf to wrap snugly around Draco's neck, he could have even layered warming charms into the material. Warming charms which his lovely Soulmate was having to live without just now. Draco jumped slightly, but from where he was standing Harry could see his cheeks curving up as a smile graced his lips.  
  
"Pansy, I thought you didn't have a...spare." Draco turned around and his last word died as it left his lips.  
  
"Had it lying around." Harry said fondly. He reached out and tucked the scarf around Draco's neck gently. Draco reached up to knock his hands away but Harry was already stepping back and raising his hands in a defensive position.   
  
“Sorry. I pushed the boundaries again, didn’t I?” Harry smiled sheepishly at Draco.  
  
"Where did you get a Slytherin scarf from Potter? Did you steal it?" Draco chose to ignore his apology, he didn’t want to get into a discussion with Potter about his lack of boundaries right now.  
  
"That wouldn't be very Gryffindor of me now would it?" Harry said with a grin. Although, he guessed he did kind of take it from the Slytherin dorm without permission. Draco lifted a hand to it and Harry knew he'd recognise the Merino wool instantly. He had given Harry a lecture about how much it had cost to commission a scarf in the exact shade of green he needed when he had lent it to Harry for the Quidditch match last year. Harry had just thought that the house scarves came as standard, which was true for everyone except Draco Malfoy apparently.  
  
"Did you con the House-elves into giving you this?" Draco said with a hand still clutching the soft wool against his throat.  
  
"No. Like I said, I had it lying around. Keep yourself warm Draco." Harry turned and walked away with a soft smile playing on his mouth. He didn't count on the Slytherin calling his name and running after him.  
  
"POTTER!" Draco caught up to him at the other end of the courtyard, "I don't know what the fuck you think you're playing at, but you need to leave me the hell alone!"  
  
"You came running after me." Harry pointed out.  
  
"You know what I mean! Stop watching me! Stop calling me  _ Draco!  _ Stop...stop... _ Flirting _ with me!" Draco stuttered slightly as his anger almost became too much for him to control. His hands were fisted at his sides and he knew his face was flushed red from a combination of the cold air and the anger welling up in his gut.   
  
Potter looked at him with those damned green eyes, and Draco felt pinned to the spot all of a sudden. Potter rounded on him and Draco felt himself taking a step back with every forward step that the Gryffindor was taking. Draco didn't realise he was being boxed in against the arch that served as the entrance to the courtyard until his back was pressed against the rough stone. Draco had to look up to meet Potter's eyes, because of course Sixth year Potter had grown taller than him. He was leaning in close now, their chests were almost completely aligned and Draco didn't know  _ why  _ but he was aching for it. He wanted it so badly. His heart rate was increasing, his cheeks were flushing, and he was sure that his pupils were dilating in response to Potter. Of all people. Why Potter?  
  
"No." Potter said evenly, his breath fanned out across Draco's face and Draco had to remember what question Potter was answering. He knew he couldn't allow himself this, he had to stop it before anything came of it.  
  
"Potter..." The name left his mouth as a whimper and Draco watched as Potter's eyes drifted closed. He wasn't leaning in for a kiss though, he was just standing there almost between Draco's legs, standing so close that Draco felt like he was being pressed against the cold stone.  
  
"Don't." Draco finished in a strained whisper.  
  
Harry's eyes snapped open, as though he was waking from a deep fantasy and coming crashing down into reality. He was staring into Draco’s eyes with a look so searching that he was forced to close them out of fear that Harry was somehow a Legilimens.  
  
"I'm sorry." He said, and he took a step back from Draco's body, "I'm sorry." He repeated, and almost as though he was being taken over by something else he was tucking the Slytherin scarf under the corner of Draco's coat collar. It was only a small movement, and it barely lasted a second, but Draco felt the air in his lungs escaping in a big cloud of condensation, "Stay warm okay?" Potter said softly.  
  
Potter turned and walked away, leaving Draco to watch after him. He subconsciously rubbed his left arm through the layers of his coat, jumper and shirt, and tried not to think about what Potter's lips would have felt like on his own.  
  
"Draco! You found a scarf." Pansy said as she swanned across the courtyard to meet him. He was lucky she hadn't arrived a minute earlier. He wouldn't have wanted to explain that picture to anyone.


	24. Chapter 24

Harry didn't realise quite how freeing leaving the castle would be. He was walking through Hogsmeade with Ron at one side and Hermione at the other, with his hands shoved deep into his coat pockets and a ridiculous hat pulled low over his scar. They were laughing about something innocuous, the way a muggle born third year had stuck his hand into the bowl of cockroach clusters in Honeydukes and then scrambled away with a shout of panic when the enchanted sweets began to crawl over his hand. He had jumped back suddenly, his sharp movement pulled the bowl with him and he ended up tipping the entire contents all over the floor, scattering cockroach clusters over everyone's feet.   
  
"The look on his face!" Ron roared for the third time, but the repetition didn't make it any less funny and Harry burst out laughing once again when Ron did a bad imitation of the poor Hufflepuff's face. The laughing felt good. All he was missing was the low chuckle from the blonde Slytherin who usually stood at his side.  
  
"Three Broomsticks next?" Hermione asked.  
  
"Does anyone want to go anywhere else?" Harry double checked. They had already been to Honeydukes, obviously, and they'd gone with Hermione to Scrivenshafts and Ron had wanted to go to Dervish and Banges because he had lost one of his Rooks and he needed a replacement.   
  
"No, I think I'm set." Ron said.  
  
"Three Broomsticks then." Harry said and he led the way to the very full pub, across the square courtyard that the entire village had been built around. They would be very lucky to get seats with half of Hogwarts out and about.   
  
Harry felt it before he saw it.  
  
The chill in the air became more acute and more cutting, seeping into the bones of even the most bundled up student. The street darkened as thick dark clouds rolled in and covered the barest hint of winter sun. Harry stopped in his tracks, and Ron and Hermione came to a standstill by his side. For a second the three of them exchanged glances in the eerie silence that had descended across the courtyard, and their breath released from their mouths as cloudy puffs of air. The harsh cold only seemed to intensify. It was so cold that the melted snow between the cobblestones was beginning to freeze under their feet, creating an icy spiderweb of shiny rivulets across the courtyard and beyond the buildings.  
  
"They can't be-" Hermione started to say, with a hint of panic in her voice.  
  
"Shush." Harry held up a hand and she was instantly silent, and he strained his ears as hard as he could to hear the tell tale sound of rattling breaths and swishing cloaks. But the silence stretched on.  
  
"We need to get the kids indoors." Ron said, his voice barely above a whisper. Harry knew he was right, but he couldn't pinpoint which direction they were coming from and he didn’t want to corral the younger students towards them.  
  
A second later Harry found out that there was no specific direction. Suddenly the sky above their heads was full of Dementors, they swirled around each other, covering any hint of the natural sky with their black robes and empty hoods. There were so many of them that they were all Harry could see when he looked up above their heads. Now and then he would glance up one of the hoods and see an endless hole that acted as a mouth, or a scabbed grey hand appearing from the sleeve of a robe. Harry had only ever seen this many Dementors in one place, when he had been sitting in the clearing next to Sirius's unconscious body in his third year. Next to him Hermione and Ron were looking up at them in horror, with eyes wide and mouths hanging open. Harry could feel them starting to have an effect on him, there was a faint scream ringing in his ears, though whether that was from someone in the village or in his own head was yet to be determined.  
  
"Patronuses guys. Hopefully some of the DA are here to help." Harry murmured. They hadn’t descended on the streets just yet but it would only be a matter of time. They were waiting, biding their time, pinpointing the most vulnerable, and boxing all of them in so they couldn’t escape.  
  
"Right." Ron stood silent and still for a moment and Harry watched him collect himself before he was raising his wand into the air and casting, "Expecto Patronum."   
  
The Jack Russell Terrier was bounding it's way up to the Dementor infested clouds, circling their heads in a protective circle. Hermione's Otter joined it not five seconds later. Their Patronuses seemed to break the seal on whoever was left out in the streets because a Hare was sent up into the sky from the next street over, and a Swan appeared from just behind the Three Broomsticks. Harry stood there, watching as Patronus after Patronus made their way up into the clouds to hold the onslaught at bay, Ginny's horse joined Lunas and Cho's. As well as Seamus's Fox and Ernie's Boar. Harry could also see the glow of a few non-corporeal Patronuses, and he knew Neville would be holding his own. He had never felt more proud of a group of people in his entire life, the DA were showing such unequivocal unity in this very moment. Defying Voldemort using one of the spells that Harry had personally taught them. He felt a lightness in his heart at the thought and if he were able to cast a Patronus he knew that would have been his happy thought.  
  
The barrier wouldn't hold for long. It took a lot of power to maintain a Patronus and Harry could see the sweat on Ron's brow crystallising in the freezing cold, and Hermione's left hand was clenched so hard that Harry was sure her fingernails would be biting deep into her palm, while her right hand was steady and determined on the handle of her wand. Both of them had no small amount of power, so if they were wavering then Harry had no doubt the protection would fall soon, especially from those who weren’t quite up to the same level. Harry watched in horror as a Dementor descended on the next street over. He clutched at his wand in desperation feeling utterly powerless as the screams started to fill the village. It seemed that not everyone had sensed what he, Ron, and Hermione had and there were still vulnerable students left out in the streets. The Dementor was repelled by the non-corporeal mist of someone's half formed Patronus.  
  
Harry looked up at the cloud of Dementors circling overhead. The Patronuses of the handful of DA members weren't enough to keep all of them at bay. For every one Dementor that was being chased away another two were taking its place. They descended down onto the village streets and feasted one by one on the Hogwarts students like they were starving. Harry looked around wildly, trying to discern the best course of action. Get everyone indoors? Or get everyone back to Hogwarts? Ron and Hermione were steadfast at his side, protecting him and themselves with a fierce Terrier and a carefree Otter. The spell was draining them with every second that they held it but they were refusing to wane under the onslaught.  
  
"What do we do?" Hermione asked, as she desperately looked to Harry for advice. But Harry couldn't think straight. He opened his mouth in the vain hope that words would spring to mind, but he was drawing a blank. He watched as Ginny's Horse re-joined their forces in the sky, helping to push back the cloud of Dementors that were slowly circling closer and closer to the tops of the buildings.  
  
The Boar and the Swan disappeared into mist at the same time. Before Luna could direct her Hare to fill the gap, another Dementor swooped down to take a long draught of happiness from an innocent person. The small Hare chased it back up to join the swirl of black cloaks that hovered over them.  
  
"Potter!" Ernie came stumbling towards them out of one of the side streets, having obviously made a break for it the moment his Patronus had failed, "What are we doing?"  
  
"Get all the students inside. Are you good to cast again?" Harry finally spoke, having been pulled from his trance the moment Ernie had yelled his name.  
  
"I will be in a minute."   
  
"All of you. Go. Get everyone inside." No sooner had he said it when Seamus came bursting into the clearing, stumbling around a corner as he almost slipped on the now icy floor.  
  
"They've all locked their doors." He was dragging three third years behind him. Harry watched as a Dementor swooped low and fed on a younger Hufflepuff who had been trying to run for safety across the clearing. The girl screamed out in terror and stumbled to her knees but the ice and snow seeping into her clothes wouldn't be any bit as chilling as the sight that Harry knew was above her.  
  
"Ron, the girl." Harry pointed towards her and Ron directed his Patronus towards the lingering Dementor. It fled quickly, rushing back to the sky and leaving the young girl gasping and crying from fear. Harry ran to her and helped her up, although she was limp and shaking she managed to climb to her feet and follow Harry back to the protective circle of Ron and Hermione's Patronuses.  
  
Harry didn't know where to look, screams were echoing throughout the otherwise silent village. Dementors were quickly descending on anyone not under the protection of a Patronus. The leftover Patronuses were starting to flicker out one by one, Harry didn't know if people were being overcome by the Dementors' effects or whether they hadn't been strong enough to hold them back anymore. If the DA faltered the village would have no protection.  
  
"We need to get all the students in one place." Harry said, just as another Dementor was chased away by the Terrier protecting them. If any of the students with them were wondering why their "Chosen One" wasn't using magic they weren't mentioning it. They were huddled against a wall, shivering and sniffling in silence. More than happy to hide behind the trio.  
  
"Do you see where any of the Patronuses are coming from?" Harry asked.   
  
"I saw Ginny's, next street over." Seamus said.  
  
"Let's make our way in that direction." Harry said, finally making a decision. Safety in numbers, find the DA, collate their magic, and bring any remaining students to safety.  
  
Ron sent the dog a little ahead of them, carving a path through the pitch blackness of ratted cloaks from the hoard of Dementors who were now flooding the streets. Then they legged it, following the Terriers silvery trail across the courtyard in front of the Three Broomsticks and turning the corner. With Hermione and her Otter bringing up the rear, and protecting their backs.  
  
"Can you see anyone?" Harry asked.  
  
"Harry!" Ron said his name in warning, "I can't hold it!"  
  
The moment the words left his mouth the Terrier disappeared into silvery mist. The screams of his Mum seeped into his consciousness once again, having no barrier to keep them silenced anymore. Harry clapped his hands over his ears in the hope that it would keep the noise at bay for long enough, and urged himself to stay on his feet, to stay conscious, he was no help when he was passed out. Hermione was trying to direct her Patronus to the front of the group but every time she tried a Dementor would dart in for an attack, forcing her to pull her Patronus back and chase it away. Before the screams of his long dead Mum could completely overtake him, a large silver horse appeared out of the blackness that surrounded them. It parted the hordes of Dementors, throwing them off to one side until it reached their little group. It circled them protectively and reared up at the Dementors who had started to reach for them.  
  
"Ginny!" Ron yelled, and Harry saw them forging their way through, following the path that her Patronus had made. Ginny and Luna, one at the front and one at the back, and between them a mixed group of terrified students, "Bloody great timing." Ron hugged her tightly in relief.  
  
"Ronald, Harry, Hermione, hello." Luna said, as though they were having a spot of afternoon tea, not being swarmed by a great army of Dementors.  
  
"We've been grabbing everyone we can." Ginny explained, "Taking it in turns with our Patronuses."   
  
"Let's keep doing that." Hermione said and she nodded to Ernie who took a deep breath and replaced Hermione's Otter with his Boar, giving the Witch a much needed break. Harry could see her breathing deeply and and trying to pull herself together after that great feat of magic, and he knew that she would never speak a word of it.   
  
"Ron, when you can, send a message up to the Castle. Dumbledore will already know about this by now, tell him we're taking the students to the Shrieking Shack." Harry said.  
  
"But that's haunted!" Piped up a Fourth year Slytherin, who had found himself mixed up in the odd group of Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws.  
  
"Would you rather be in a supposedly haunted house or have your Soul sucked out?" Ron snarked back, "By all means walk away."   
  
"Leave him Ron. They're just scared. Let's see if we can round everyone up. You might as well lead us Ginny, you know where you've been so far." Before they started moving again Ron sent his Patronus bounding away towards the Castle. Harry just had to hope that help would be on its way soon, he was proud of the DA right now, prouder than ever, but they were still just fifteen and sixteen year olds. They couldn’t do this for much longer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Actually had to Google to plural of Patronus for this Chapter. Add that to the list of weird Harry Potter questions I Google on a daily basis haha.
> 
> Also. I apologise. But with the bad comes the good! So hold onto your chickens cause it's not all doom and gloom.


	25. Chapter 25

They moved quickly through the streets, collecting cowering students from doorways and side streets who were pale and shaking from prolonged exposure to the Dementors. As soon as Ginny's Horse flickered out of sight Luna took point, her large Hare bound about in mid-air and forced the formidable Dementors to flee back to the skies. At the rear of their rapidly growing group were Hermione and Ernie, taking it in turns to push back the encroaching Dementors. On either side were Ron and Seamus. Between them they had created a protective ring around the defenceless students. The defenceless students and Harry. He stared down at his wand uselessly as they walked slowly through the streets. He might as well just throw the damn thing away for all the good it was doing him.  
  
"Harry!" He looked up to see Cho running towards them with a small group of terrified Ravenclaws in tow. She allowed her Swan to flicker and disappear as she entered the protective circle. And then Harry had a terrifying thought.   
  
"Has anyone seen the Slytherins?" Has anyone seen Draco he wanted to ask.  
  
"Probably holed away in the Castle. Wouldn't be surprised if they knew all about this." Ron said with no small amount of venom in his tone as he looked out to the circling Dementors.  
  
"Malfoy, Parkinson and Zabini all came to the Village today. Has anyone seen them?" His question was met with silence, "Anyone?!" He shouted over everyone's heads.  
  
"They might have been by Zonkos." Cho said, "I saw them just before all of this." She gestured wildly around them. Harry turned to look in the direction of the shop. There was no sign of any glowing Patronuses over the roofs, there was only darkness, and cloaks and scabbed glistening grey skin.  
  
Harry didn't stop to think. He was leaving the protective circle of the Patronuses and running towards the corner without even realising his feet had started to move.   
  
"Harry! You don't have any magic!" Hermione yelled after him, but he couldn't just stop and wait for someone to get there. Draco could be gone by then.  
  
"Get everyone to the Shack!" He yelled behind him.  
  
He almost skid on the ice as he turned the corner to run down the next street. Draco's pale blonde hair seemed to almost shine like a beacon in the dark. The Dementors were swooping in one by one, taking their fill of every happy memory he had ever had while he lay prone on the floor in the centre of the street. They were draining him of everything good. Draco being such an easy target was probably the only reason Harry wasn't being overwhelmed, but he could still hear the traces of a scream echoing in his ears. Harry gripped his wand in his hand, he didn't have access to his magic. But that didn't mean he wasn't about to try. He thought of Draco.  
  
"Expecto Patronum!" His wand didn't even produce a non-corporeal wisp. He could feel his magic pushing against the barrier, trying desperately to come to his aid, but the constraints held. He watched in horror as another Dementor leaned in to Draco. He could hear the deep rattling breaths from where he stood., but they were ignoring him, feasting on the Slytherin instead.  
  
Harry pushed against the barrier that was keeping his magic confined once more. He had to save his Soulmate. He wasn’t even giving a thought to the screams in his head, his desire to help Draco overshadowed everything else. He remembered the way Draco's fingers would cradle his jaw as they kissed. He remembered the way his breath would escape in little pants against Harry's mouth. He remembered the long line of his chest and the slender curve of his hips. He remembered every inch of Draco's body and every moment Draco had surrendered it to him. He remembered every single time Draco's bright beautiful soul shone like a beacon through his pale grey eyes. A soul which didn’t belong to a Dementor.  
  
"EXPECTO PATRONUM!"   
  
The rush of magic through his veins was almost as surprising as the silver stag that burst out of his wand. Harry collapsed to his knees in relief as magic filled him from head to toe. Bursting through the metaphorical cobwebs that had filled his disused magical channels. Prongs ran free. Galloping towards the Dementors, chasing them away and impaling them on it's long antlers before stopping to stand guard over the barely conscious Slytherin. Harry joined his Patronus once he was able to remember how to use his legs. He felt shaky from the sudden rush of magic and his head was practically spinning from the onslaught of power that was once again at his fingertips. Prongs disappeared with a low bow of his antlers, scattering into a cloud of white mist. Leaving them alone in the dark and narrow street.  
  
"Potter." Draco said and Harry didn't think it was in his head that Draco sounded almost relieved to see him. His voice was devoid of the cutting edge of sarcasm or dislike that Harry was starting to get used to once again.  
  
"You're okay. Fuck, you're okay. Thank Merlin." Harry held his hand out and helped Draco to his feet. He was paler than usual, his skin was cold and clammy and he was shaking slightly, he tried to hide it by stuffing his hands in his pockets but he wasn't fooling Harry.  
  
"Do you ever stop being a fucking hero Potter? If you expect me to fall to my knees and kiss your feet as thanks for saving my life then you're sorely mistaken."  
  
"You're welcome Draco." Harry rolled his eyes. But he knew as well as Draco that his insults were lacking any real heat behind them, he was merely going through the motions until they were on more even footing, "We need to get back to the group. Where are your friends?"   
  
"I don't know."  
  
"They left you?" Harry said in disgust.   
  
"I needed to go into a shop and the others didn't, they went ahead and when I came out they were gone." Draco was being tight lipped, but if Harry knew him as well as he thought he did (and he did) then Draco wasn't as happy about the turn of events as he was letting on.  
  
"Fucking Slytherins." Harry muttered. Out of the corner of his eye saw Draco open his mouth to argue, but he quickly snapped it shut again. More than aware that Harry may have a bit of a point there.  
  
"Are you gonna get us out of here then?" Draco asked. The Dementors had fled from the street, leaving behind them an eerie, almost too calm, silence.  
  
"Where did they go?" Harry muttered under his breath.  
  
"Are you actually as Potty as they say you are? Do you _want_ them here or something?"   
  
"No, but the rest of the Village is being swarmed. I don't get it."  
  
"Maybe you scared them off." Draco suggested.  
  
Draco regretted the words the moment they left his mouth. If anyone would have asked him at a later date he would have sworn that he didn't scream in terror as Dementors descended upon them in a tight circle. And he definitely didn't clutch at Potter's bicep as they circled closer and closer, hovering over the ground and towering over them. They were closing in on the two Hogwarts students until they were close enough to reach out and grasp at their clothing. Harry's Patronus joined them after a single moment, pushing the Dementors back as much as possible and pacing in front of Harry to ward them off as much as possible.  
  
"Potter." Draco whimpered because they were still appearing behind him. They were constantly pushing forwards towards Potter, filling the gaps the Patronus was making, and he couldn't carve a path for them both, there were too many. It was as though the entire army of Dementors had known that Harry Potter was on this street, but Draco didn’t know enough about them to know if they could remember someone’s Patronus form, or even if they had enough sense to target one particular person. Draco always thought that they were only drawn in through strong happy memories, the happier the memories the more of a target a person was.  
  
"I need your Patronus Draco." Harry said through gritted teeth, cutting through Draco’s fear like a knife and distracting him from the hands that were reaching for him from behind Potter's back.  
  
"I-I can't." He was barely in touch with his magic right now, never mind cast a corporeal Patronus. He knew the incantation of course, he had tried it once in third year when he had seen Potter's Patronus first hand on the Quidditch field, he had been determined that there was no amount of magic that Potter could do that he couldn't. He had failed, of course, and had gone about for three days seething about perfect fucking Potter, because _of course_ Potter could perform an Auror level spell when he was thirteen.  
  
"I need you, Draco." Potter said through clenched teeth as his Stag darted about in front of them, following the subtle flicks of Harry’s wand to chase away Dementor after Dementor, sending them careening in a swirl of black cloak.  
  
"I can't do it! I've tried but I can't." Draco was panicking now. The Patronus was protecting them from the front but there was nothing to protect their backs, and the Dementors were closing in.   
  
"You can." Potter said, and his words were so full of trust and blind Gryffindor faith that he had Draco almost believing that he could.  
  
"I-" Potter spun around, leaving his stag to push the Dementors away of its own will. He reached up and cupped Draco's jaw with a pair of strong hands. His palms and his fingertips were calloused and rough, but warm against the cold skin of Draco’s face.  
  
"Draco." Harry whispered, and looking into his green eyes, feeling his hands upon his skin, it was almost possible for Draco to forget that they were about to have their Souls sucked out of them.  
  
"You _can_ ." Draco was trying to work out whether Potter had said that out loud or in his head.   
  
"Think of your happiest memory. And. Cast. The. Spell." He said it slowly and so pointedly that Draco didn’t have it within him to deny Potter again.  
  
Draco looked back at him, and with a whisper that didn't seem befitting for such a complicated and powerful spell Draco cast, "Expecto Patronum."   
  
The owl that appeared was a shock to him, but it wasn't to Potter. He'd seen it before. Which meant he'd done it before. Potter didn’t just _believe_ that he could perform the spell, he _knew_ that Draco could, that's why he had looked at Draco with such unfaltering surety.  
  
"You knew." Draco whispered. They were safe, cocooned inside the protective barrier that the two Patronuses had created around them. Potter's hands were still cupping his jaw, his fingers were gently stroking the skin just behind Draco’s jaw and Draco didn’t want it to end. He had never felt safer and in this moment he thought that he could give himself this little slither of comfort. Just for this moment though, nobody could see them, and if questioned he could plead temporary insanity from almost having his soul sucked out of him.  
  
"Yes." Potter said with a small nod and he leaned even closer to rest his forehead against Draco’s.  
  
"How?" Draco asked quietly as his eyes drifted closed.  
  
"I-"  
  
"Harry!" Harry was cut off from answering when a Jack Russell Terrier and an Otter came streaming through the darkness, sending Dementors scattering in all directions. Draco jumped away and Harry missed the contact the moment it was removed, but he didn't dare speak of it in front of Ron.  
  
"Everyone’s in the Shack. We showed Ginny how to get out, she's taking everyone back to Hogwarts." Ron said.  
  
"You got your magic back?" Hermione asked as the stag continued to pace back and forth in front of them, "Both of you did. Wow, Malfoy…" She gave the swooping owl a look of appreciation and Draco practically preened under the unspoken admiration.  
  
"Don't know why you risked your life for the Ferret, too noble for your own good."   
  
"Leave it Ron." Harry said, "Any word from Hogwarts?"  
  
"They should be arriving any-" Hermione's sentence was cut off by a great silver phoenix flying through the sky and chasing away the hoards of hovering Dementors, "Minute now." Hermione finished lamely as they watched the Dementors being chased away.  
  
"Let's get back to the castle. Make sure everyone's okay." Harry turned to walk toward the shack with Ron and Hermione at his heels. Draco paused. He wasn't part of their little group. He didn't belong.  
  
"Draco," Harry turned and said softly, letting Ron and Hermione walk ahead, "Are you coming?" He held his hand out. But Draco didn't take it. He put his hands in his pockets and followed Potter's sidekicks up the path, leaving Potter to follow behind him without another word. But Draco didn’t miss the small secret smile that Potter was keeping to himself.


	26. Chapter 26

The Sunday following the disastrous Hogsmeade trip brought a sombreness to the castle, the likes of which Harry had never known. Not even when there had been a Basilisk attacking Muggleborns had there been such a sense of fear and guardedness. The previous evening word had spread through the school like wildfire, they had lost two students to the attack, a seventh year Slytherin and a fourth year Hufflepuff. Harry hadn’t been able to find out their names, but he had overheard from a Hufflepuff Prefect that the two students had been taken to St Mungo's. Hermione had called it palliative care, since there was no curing the Dementors Kiss. Out of everyone in the school Harry noticed that the Slytherins in particular were the most affected, half of them had considered themselves safe against attack. They had thought that being on Voldemort's side protected them from any evil that befell the school. They were wrong, and Harry could see some of them coming to terms with that knowledge and questioning how safe they actually were.  
  
At breakfast he was trying not to make eye contact with anyone, the entire Hufflepuff House seemed to be crying and he was sure that he had heard a couple of them blaming him and his friends for not getting there fast enough. Didn’t seem to matter that they had saved everyone else. He was trying not to listen to them, focusing instead on Draco. The blonde was quiet. Subdued. He was poking at his breakfast with the tines of his fork and was so deep in thought that Harry watched Pansy try to greet him three times before she huffed and pranced away. Good, Harry thought, they deserved some punishment for leaving Draco like that. Out of everyone in Slytherin he hadn't expected Pansy and Blaise to leave him in that situation. But then, Draco changing his loyalties last year had affected more than just himself, Harry supposed that it had forced the other two Slytherins to question their own allegiances. Without that major life change they were left to continue as they had been, ignorant and self-serving.  
  
For the first time since Draco had returned to the School Harry found himself looking up to meet a pair of stormy grey eyes which, for the first time, didn't turn away. Now that he had his magic back he hoped that he could work on breaking their blocked mental connection. But not yet, Draco wasn't ready. This was obvious by the way his eyebrows were drawn down in concentration, a look that Harry had seen on his face during a particularly complicated Arithmancy essay. He was still figuring things out. Still trying to piece together all the little hints that Harry had been trying to drop, with some success but without any subtlety or finesse. He didn't want it to seem like he was playing Draco, he wanted to get across to the stubborn Slytherin that whatever he was feeling was real, no matter how much he was trying to stamp them down. And he was certain that Draco was feeling  _ something.   
  
_ Harry still didn't know what Draco had gone through. He still didn't know  _ why _ Voldemort had wanted him. He couldn't work out why Draco had been placed back in the school. And he definitely didn't understand why it was so important that the rest of the Wizarding world forgot all about them being together. Something was missing. A little piece of information that would connect all the dots for him. He had a feeling he really needed to tell Ron. Last time it hadn’t gone down well, Draco had been hexed off his feet and sent flying halfway across the Room of Requirement. Harry really didn't want the same thing to happen again. Draco cocked his head to one side, still staring at him in complete confusion and Harry wondered whether he even realised what he was doing.   
  
Harry's gaze was broken by a familiar hoot of warning, he looked up just in time for Hedwig to swoop down and land gracefully on his shoulder. Because he was looking away from the Slytherin table he didn't hear the clattering of Draco's fork as it fell against the side of his plate and he didn't see his eyes widen in instant recognition.  
  
"Hey girl." Harry said affectionately as he stroked a hand gently through her white speckled feathers, "Got something for me?" He carefully untied the letter attached to her leg and accepted a little nibble of her beak in return. Once free she hopped down onto the table and began to attack Harry's plate with wild abandon, sending crispy bacon flying in all directions.   
  
"Who's that from?" Ron asked over the rim of his pumpkin juice.  
  
"Padfoot and Moony." Harry said quietly, just in case anyone was listening in. He opened the envelope with quick fingers and he pulled out the folded parchment.  
  
"What are they saying?"  
  
"They heard about the attack on Hogsmeade, it's in the Sunday Prophet." Harry read quickly, "They want to make sure we're all okay. And then the usual, don't rush into danger, think things through first, blah blah blah." Harry folded the letter up once again and tucked it into the front pocket of his jeans.   
  
"They're acting like I seek danger out.” Harry said with a scowl.  
  
"Well…" Ron started but trailed off with a raised eyebrow and a pointed look.  
  
"Well, yeah,” Harry admitted begrudgingly, “Now and then. But not all the time. Not yesterday especially." Ron just scoffed, he would class running after a Slytherin in the middle of a Dementor attack the absolute height of seeking out danger.  
  
"I guess they're just being parents. I wouldn't be surprised if me and Gin get a letter too. Sometimes I wish my parents were Muggles so they didn't find out about half the stuff we go through."  
  
"You reckon Hermione tells her parents about any of this?" Harry said with a small laugh of disbelief. He doubted it.  
  
"Speaking of…" Ron looked around, "Where is Hermione?"   
  
"Library I expect. I'm supposed to be meeting her up there after breakfast."  
  
"You two have been in there a lot this year." Ron commented, bringing Harry's attention back to yesterday’s conversation, and Harry tried not to look guilty.  
  
"We've got a lot more work than usual."  
  
"Hm. Let's pretend I believe that." Ron shuffled a little closer, leaning across the table in an attempt to gain at least a little bit of privacy, "You'd tell me mate, wouldn't you?"  
  
"Tell you what?" Harry said in an innocent tone that was entirely unconvincing to his best friend of over five years.”  
  
"Whatever it is that you and Hermione are always whispering about. You'd tell me if it was a big thing, right? It's just that we've gone through too much to be keeping secrets from each other now." Bloody Ronald Weasley, being so much more perceptive than anyone gave him credit for.  
  
"It's complicated." Harry said as he tried to figure out what to say without lying to his best friend, "I'm just...I'm waiting for the right time."  
  
"Right." The single word hit Harry right in the gut.  
  
"Let me meet Hermione in the library and afterwards I'll tell you everything."  
  
"Okay." He didn't look happy about it but he looked willing enough to allow Harry those few hours with Hermione to brainstorm the best way to tell him.  
  
X  
  
"Is he ready to know?" Hermione asked in the silent stillness of the library.  
  
"I don't know. Do I have a choice?" Harry responded. He was sitting at the small, two seater table as they repeated the routine of their usual visits.   
  
"Well, how did he take it last time?" She asked as she flicked through a book and placed it neatly back on the shelf a few feet away from where he was sitting.  
  
"He caught us kissing and he blasted Draco away from me." Hermione let a little laugh escape but she quickly stifled it when Harry raised an unimpressed eyebrow at her.  
  
"Sounds like Ron."  
  
"Any ideas?" Harry asked, hoping that she had a piece of sage wisdom to impart.  
  
"Keep breakables out of reach?" Hermione suggested.  
  
"I'd really rather not get hexed."  
  
"Do you want me to take his wand?" She asked and Harry had a feeling she was only half kidding.  
  
"I'd rather not get punched either."   
  
"Well I don't think we can entirely avoid that." She gave him an amused smile.  
  
"I was hoping we could just put it off until we fix this whole thing." He whined and dropped his head onto the desk, the dull thud almost seemed to echo through the silence of the restricted section.  
  
"Since when has life been that easy?"  
  
"I hear that." Harry said in agreement without lifting his head.  
  
"Keep it simple and don't skirt around the subject, chances are he'll work it out before you can even finish talking. But he's your best friend, and he understood it once before, so he will again." Hermione handed him the last book in that row that might be of some use.  
  
"How have we not found anything yet?" Harry said as he looked up to take the book out of her hands to add to the meagre stack they had accrued.  
  
"It's got to be something pretty dark to have caught Voldemort's attention." Hermione sighed, "I'm starting to doubt we'll be able to find anything in here at all." She looked pained to admit that the Hogwarts Library was failing them.  
  
"Please don't say that, I need you to keep hoping because if you lose hope, I'll lose hope."  
  
"I just…" She trailed off and looked at him, as though she was trying to stop herself from saying something. She sat down on the only other chair and looked at him in concern.  
  
"How are you doing with  _ this _ Draco? Are you winning him over?" She placed a comforting hand on his arm and Harry knew exactly where she was going with that train of thought. She was starting to believe there wouldn’t be a way to reverse whatever spell Draco was under, but Harry couldn’t give up.  
  
"I'm getting somewhere, but it's not the same. I miss him, the him he was before."  
  
"I'm sorry Harry. I'm just trying to be a little realistic."  
  
"I know." Harry said. He avoided her gaze and looked down at the title of the book that was sat on the top of the pile.  
  
"He fell in love with you once Harry." Her hand came up to cover his.  
  
"He's letting me touch him now." Harry said with a small hopeful smile. Granted, it had been while they were being swarmed by a great hoard of Dementors...But still, Harry was counting it.  
  
"It's a start. How did it even start last time? You never told me."  
  
"I just kissed him. In the broom shed."  
  
"Quidditch? You bonded over Quidditch? What am I talking about, of course you bonded over Quidditch." She rolled her eyes but Harry couldn't miss her knowing smile.  
  
X  
  
"You're stalling." Ron said.   
  
They were both sitting on their own beds, facing each other across the small gap between the two pieces of furniture.  
  
"I-Yeah, I'm stalling."  _ Don't skirt around the subject,  _ Hermione's voice flitted through his head.  
  
"Why?" Ron asked.  
  
"I don't want you to hex me."  
  
"Here." Ron tossed his wand over and it landed next to Harry's pillow. Harry was touched by the trust.  
  
"And I don't want you to punch me."   
  
"Come on Harry, what is it? It can't be that bad, surely?" Ron thought for a second, "Unless you're about to tell me you're gonna run away and become a Death Eater or something, in which case I'm gonna need my wand back." Ron's short laugh was incredulous.  
  
"No. Obviously not that." Harry took a deep breath, he hadn't had to do this last time, "Okay, it's really complicated and some things won't make sense to you at first. But I just need you to listen, okay?" Ron nodded, and he leaned forward with his elbows on his knees and his hands clasped together in the space between them.  
  
"Last November, Draco Malfoy and I got together."  _ Don’t skirt around the subject.  
  
_ "What? No you didn't." Ron laughed in complete disbelief, and Harry figured that was better than a black eye.  
  
"We did. We started seeing each other in secret at first, but we eventually fell in love and then Draco deflected to our side. He’s been to Grimmauld place, he went to all the DA meetings, he even went to the Ministry with us.” Harry summed up the past year of his life as succinctly as possible.   
  
"You've gone round the bend Harry. I think I would remember all that."  
  
"Would you?" Harry asked with raised eyebrows, "What did Draco do last year?"  
  
"What do you mean? He was a prat as always."  
  
"Was he though? Do you remember him being around at all?" Based on the theory he and Hermione were working on Draco was falling into place in everyone's memories based on where they expected him to be. Ron expected him to be a prick so that's what he remembered of him from last year. Only when someone really thought about it and concentrated on specific points could they discern that Draco wasn't in fact there. They had discovered that the only "real" memory was of the announcement that Dumbledore had made after Draco’s “accident”. They had put Hermione’s memory of it into his Pensive and even that had it’s faults, the angle she was seeing it from was all wrong, and the great hall had been slightly blurry and foggy, not unlike a camera that hadn’t had chance to focus before the photo had been taken. It looked nothing like the rest of the memories Harry had entered.  
  
"Well…" Ron trailed off as he trawled through his memories of the previous year, "No. But he must have been around."  
  
"Think about it. Surely he would have been an even bigger prat than normal with Umbridge collecting up Slytherins for her little shitty Squad. You don't think you'd remember him making our lives hell?"  
  
"What exactly are you saying Harry? That you and Malfoy started shacking up and I've somehow forgotten it?"  
  
"Not just you, everyone."  
  
"I don't believe you."  
  
"I can prove it." Harry stood up, opened his trunk and carefully retrieved the magically shrunken box. With a quick movement of his wand he returned it to it's normal size.  
  
"That's a…" Ron trailed off as his mouth fell open in shock and he stared at the magical object Harry had just revealed, "Where did you…?"  
  
"Draco gave it to me for my Birthday. You were there at the time. Do you want to see?" Ron nodded numbly.   
  
It felt strange to be leading people in and out of memories, but he was quickly getting used to it. Based on Ron's reaction and the way he was looking around the kitchen of Grimmauld Place Harry could tell this was his first time using a Pensieve.  
  
"Let me know when things start looking different to you." Harry said, and he quickly took up a spot behind Draco's shoulder. He watched the way the blonde's expression softened with fondness whenever he looked over at memory Harry, he saw the way they were mimicking each other's movements, leaning in at the same time, leaning away at the same time, curling their fingers together without a second of thought or hesitation. Harry had never noticed that before, he doubted even Draco knew he was doing it. They were just so attuned to each other, and so comfortable with each other's movements that it had somehow become second nature to them both.  
  
"This is different." Ron said, and Harry had to drag his eyes away from Draco to watch as the blonde stood up to hand over his present, "I don't remember him being there at all but up until this bit everything else has been the same." Ron watched the exchange of the Pensieve and the case of donated memories.  
  
"So...You weren't having me on?"  
  
"No." Harry said sadly as he watched the memory of himself reaching out to touch Draco. How he longed to do that these days.  
  
"And, you love him?"  
  
"More than anything."  
  
"Why?" It wasn't said out of spite or with malicious intent, it was asked out of simple curiosity and Harry completely understood why he was asking, up until last year Draco really had been a colossal prick.   
  
"He's my Soulmate." Harry said, he had been avoiding telling Ron that little nugget of information until absolutely necessary. But then Ron's response had him realising he maybe should have led with it.  
  
"Okay." His best friend nodded in acceptance.  
  
"Okay?" Harry asked in surprise.  
  
"Yeah. Okay." The memory faded from around them and they found themselves landing back on their feet in the middle of the Gryffindor dorm.  
  
“Just like that? Not gonna try to have me committed? Not gonna accuse him of putting me under a potion or spell?”  
  
“Hermione believes you right?” Ron asked as he fetched his wand from next to Harry’s pillow and tucked it back into his pocket.  
  
“Yeah.” Harry said, stunned.  
  
“And Dumbledore right?”  
  
“...Yeah.”  
  
“Then I believe you. I still think you’re a little barmy. Don’t know why you’d think Ferret Face was attractive but whatever floats your boat mate.” Ron shrugged, “What about this whole memory thing anyway?” Harry knew there was a reason Ron was his best friend.


	27. Chapter 27

That owl. He  _ knew _ he'd recognised that owl. Down to the very last speckle on it's fairly impressive wingspan it was the same,  _ exactly  _ the same, as the owl that had sprung from his wand the day before. Which left Draco with the chilling question, why does his Patronus take the form of Potters owl? On that note, when did he even learn how to produce a Patronus? From what he'd been told of the previous year their Defence Professor was a load of shite, so either some Professor had taken the time to pull him to one side and teach him or...Or Potter taught him. Which sounded just as ridiculous as he had expected it to.   
  
The questions were starting to stack up and things weren't quite adding up. Which was why he found himself on Sunday evening sitting on his bed in the Slytherin sixth year dorms with that blank journal set down in front of him and a self inking quill twirling between his fingers. He couldn't figure out where to start with it all. He had so many thoughts to unravel. So many different versions of the same story to figure out. He had to work out who to believe, and who to trust. He supposed in some ways he'd already made that choice, his left arm twitched at the unbidden thought and he quickly stamped the feeling down.  
  
Draco opened the journal and turned to the first page. He remembered writing a few questions the first time he had come across it, but now the pages were clean and empty. As though a quill had never even touched the surface. Just what sort of enchantments were on this thing anyway? He touched the nib of his quill to the ivory parchment in the hope that something would come to him in the moment. In the end, there was only one thing that came to mind.  
  
_ Potter.  
  
_ He thought about all of Potter's weird behaviour since he had returned to Hogwarts. The owl, the scarf, his  _ wand. _ The way Potter made his stomach do backflips. The way Potters eyes made his words dissipate from the tip of his tongue. The odd way his magic suddenly returned. He hadn't been completely ignorant to the comings and goings of Potter, as much as he wished he was, and it hadn't failed his notice that Potter hadn't been using magic. In practical lessons he had pretended to take part but no spells had come from his direction. Draco wasn't stupid, as much as he didn't like Potter, the golden boy was more than powerful to perform non-verbally. Which meant that he wasn't the only one whose magic had been mysteriously subdued. And the moment Potter broke through those barriers Draco felt like his magic had been freed as well, it felt different, but it was there.  
  
Under the heading  _ Potter _ he quickly wrote-  
_ Why did my Magic return?  
_ _ Why did Potter have my Scarf?  
_ _ Why did Potter have my Wand?  
_ _ Why is my Patronus Potter's owl?  
_ _ When did I learn how to cast a Patronus?  
  
_ As soon as he started to write the questions seemed to flow out of him. He felt as though he was finally able to put all of his frustrations down on paper, all the things that hadn't added up. All the things he had been told from the moment he woke up to the moment he had been dropped off at the Castle gates.  
  
_ Did I really lose my memory by falling off my broom?  _ He remembered Potter and his Mudblood…His Muggle-born, talking about him in regards to a memory charm while they were in the restricted section. Could he really have just been hit by a memory charm? He didn’t really remember being in St Mungo's for a week, but he had been assured that the accident and the potions had simply made him woozy and forgetful.  
  
_ Why does everyone seem to remember it happening?  
_ _ Why can’t Pansy remember me being around?  
_ _ Why did my Mother become a traitor?  
_ _ How did my Father die?  
  
_ And then his final thought…  
  
_ Was I loyal to the Dark Lord?  
  
_ X  
  
Harry watched the words appear in the journal in front of him. He didn't need to feel Draco's emotions to know that he was confused and in desperate need of answers. Answers which Harry had. But he wasn't ready yet. Draco's doubt and desperation needed to bring him to Harry. Not the other way around. He knew that if he tried to approach Draco he would just be pushed away, he wouldn't even get the chance to explain half the things he wanted to.  
  
Harry traced the looping letters with his fingers in lieu of actually picking up a quill and responding. Draco didn't know that these journals were connected and Harry didn't want to scare him away from what seemed to be his only outlet. He had written in it once since his memory loss, but he had only written three questions and Harry had stared at them for a long time. He wanted to answer, it was almost ingrained into him to answer whenever Draco wrote to him, but he knew he couldn't. Harry had only been twelve when he realised the dangers of someone you didn't know talking to you through an inanimate object. He didn't want to scare Draco into destroying the journal, Harry hoped that one day they would be able to use them the way they had before. But for now he would read what Draco was writing and he would remember all the questions he had so that they could be answered when he was ready to ask for it.  
  
Draco must have closed his journal because Harry was left watching the words slowly fade from the page as though they were never there. He knew this would probably be considered an invasion of privacy, he was so used to knowing everything about Draco that it felt odd to factor in privacy and personal space. He told himself that if Draco were to start writing what Harry would consider to be an actual journal entry then he wouldn't read it. That was what he told himself anyway. Whether he would put that into practice or not he couldn't be sure.   
  
X  
  
For Draco everything seemed to come to a tipping point in Charms the next day. It was the last class of the day and all day his newly returned magic had been acting weird. He had half a mind to go to Madam Pomfrey about it but that would mean tests and maybe a stay in the Hospital Wing and probably a small amount of de-robing, which just wouldn't work for him.  
  
It felt like magic was leaking out of him, it was depleting from his core as though he were performing a spell even though most of the time he hadn't even been holding his wand. It was odd and it felt foreign and he had to wonder whether that was the reason his magic had been bound in the first place. That and the fact that it felt so different these days. He was used to the feeling of his magic, he'd gained control over it before he'd even arrived at Hogwarts in his first year, but the power inside him now was  _ phenomenal _ . Perhaps when his father had died Draco had reached magical maturity early? Perhaps he really had just become that powerful during the last year? Who's to say? It wasn't like Hogwarts tested regularly for magical strength. Once again Draco was left with a mind full of questions and no one around him who seemed like they could provide an answer. Except Potter. Potter might have answers.   
  
For some reason, Potter of all people, seemed to know what was going on with him. He hadn't even said as much. But the way he looked at Draco, staring at him from across every room that they were in together. He had to know something that no one else did. He caught himself staring at the back of Potter's head and he quickly diverted his gaze back to the board at the front of the class. Flitwick was levitating thick slabs of rock to each table so that they could begin to practice the gouging spell, they had learnt the theory for it the week before and he had seen some members of his house practicing on rocks by the lake, but he hadn’t had the chance yet with his new found magic.  
  
When the rock landed in front of himself and Blaise, Draco lifted his wand with a little bit of excitement. This would be the first sixth year spell he would actually be performing. It had been weeks since his return to the castle but with the suppression of his magic he hadn't been able to do much more than some second and third year spells. Blaise had already mastered it in his spare time, and with a series of quick sharp flicks of his wand he had a pile of rubble next to him and a perfectly formed hole through the left hand side of the rock. Then he tucked his wand away and leaned back in his chair with his arms crossed.  
  
Draco raised his wand after watching Blaise's rather spectacular display. The incantation was on his lips when he felt the surge of magic flooding through him. It rushed out from his core, flooding his body with a fiery heat that he barely recognised as his own. If he were casting he would expect that surge of magic to rush down his arm and emerge from his wand in the form of a spell. As it was,  _ he  _ didn't cast a spell, so the magic reached his fingers and dissipated into nothing. That was the biggest flare-up so far, and it made all the air in his lungs escape simultaneously in the form of a sharp gasp. Which gained him a curious side glance from Blaise.  
  
"Well done Potter!" The Professor squeaked, rocking up on his toes to see over the desk at whatever huge feat of magic the Chosen One had decided to do, "No more issues I see?" Draco looked at the back of Potters head.  
  
"No Sir."  
  
"Jolly good. Maybe you could demonstrate again for Mr Longbottom, he seems to be having some trouble."   
  
"Draco." Blaise was looking at him now, with his eyebrows drawn low. His name was said in warning, to pull his focus away from Potter as though the other Slytherin knew exactly what he was thinking. Which was impossible of course, he would know if his friend was a Legilimens. Chances were that Blaise was warning him not to start trouble with Potter, rather than warning him not to catch feelings for the stupid speccy git.  
  
"Right." Draco said. He raised his wand once more, but he still must be tuned into Potter on the other side of the room because he could quite clearly hear him talking to Longbottom, correcting the grip on his wand and talking him through the incantation. And then Potter was casting, " _ Defodio _ " and slashing his wand through the air in a single movement. The effect was instantaneous, not on the rock in front of Longbottom but on Draco. Draco could chalk it down to a coincidence. But with Potter coincidences didn't seem to exist.   
  
X  
  
Draco couldn't be sure that he was in complete control of himself when he found himself walking down the fourth floor corridor later that evening with Potter approaching him from the opposite direction. Potter hadn't noticed, he had his hands stuffed in his pockets and he was staring at the floor as he walked. He looked...Lonely. Draco had never noticed it before, but then, it was rare that Draco ever saw him without his groupies. Draco was fed up. His skin itched uncomfortably from the multiple cleaning charms he had cast to get rid of all the dust that seemed to seep into his pores, and his hair was dull and lifeless from the cobwebs that had snagged him. His arms hurt from the hours of hauling heavy objects about and he was faced with yet another day of fruitless searching. Not even to mention the way his head was pounding from the silence that had allowed him to ruminate on the endless questions that had cropped up over the past few weeks.   
  
So he was definitely not himself, he ached all over, his head hurt and he was fed up. So he could barely stop himself from grabbing Potter's robe and dragging him into an empty classroom. Potter could have stopped him (Draco had noticed the way the Gryffindor had filled out since Fourth year), but why Potter was allowing him to drag him about was just another question to add to the list. Even though he hadn't resisted in the slightest Draco still found it necessary to draw his wand and press it into the centre of Potter's chest firmly, as though the dynamic between them wouldn’t be as weird if Draco thought he was forcing Potter into speaking to him. He was glaring up at Potter, but the Gryffindor wasn't reciprocating. He was just looking down the two or so inches between them with a soft expression and a slight curl to the corner of his lips.  
  
"You won't be able to curse me." He said when it seemed like Draco wasn’t going to speak first.  
  
"Don't tell me what I will and won't do Potter!" Draco snapped.  
  
"Okay." He shrugged. But he didn't remove his hands from his pockets. He wasn't in any way concerned that his arch-enemy had him at wand point and that was just infuriating Draco even more.  
  
"I could curse you, you know?!"  
  
"You could try." Potter shrugged, looking like he hadn’t a care in the world, despite the wand Draco was pointing at him.  
  
"I will!"  
  
"Okay." Potter was looking at him again. Not just looking but  _ looking _ . Staring into his eyes without flinching and Draco had to show him that he could, that he  _ would.  
  
_ "Petrificus Totalus." It was a weak attempt, barely even a fucking third year spell for Merlin's sake. He was face to face with Potter, the one person he was expected to hate and all he could manage was a damn third year body bind. Only, he couldn't even manage that. Instead of falling to the ground with his arms snapped to his sides Potter just rocked back on his heels slightly. The spell washed over him like Draco had just cast a hot air charm.  
  
"Immobulus!" Nothing. Potter didn't even have the grace to act differently. But he didn't look all that amused either as his lips thinned into a tight line.  
  
"Flipendo!" Draco cast, pushing everything he had into the spell. He knew it wasn't his magic, the spell left his wand as expected, with a flash of bright yellow light and it hit Potter directly in the chest. It just didn't  _ do  _ anything to him.  
  
"Are you finished?"  
  
"Why isn’t it working? And why aren't you fighting back?" Draco asked as he teetered on the verge of hysterical, "Fight back Potter!"  
  
"No." Draco raised his fist then, with every intention of sinking it right into Potter's infuriating jaw. His knuckles didn't even make it halfway to the Gryffindor’s stupid face when Potter caught his wrist.  
  
"Why?! Why won't you fight back?"  
  
"I'm not going to hurt you." Harry guided his lifeless arm back down to his side, "I can't hurt you anyway, not unless I punch you, but I'm not going to do that."  
  
"Why?!"  
  
"I can't tell you."  
  
"Why?" Draco demanded again as his hands balled into fits at his sides. But Harry was yet to let go of his wrist, just in case he lashed out again.   
  
"You're not ready to know yet."  
  
"What the hell does that even mean?" Potter was silent for a few moments.  
  
"The memories that you lost are far more important than you think they are."   
  
"Stop being so fucking cryptic!" He wanted to punch perfect Potter in his perfect fucking face. Except that he didn’t apparently, because he wasn't even trying to fight against the grip that Potter had on his wrist.  
  
"I'm sorry. I know that you're really frustrated, and I know you have a lot of questions. I just can't answer them right now." Draco didn't even try to ask him how he knew that. He was starting to figure out that Potter just seemed to know these things.  
  
"But you  _ can _ answer them?"  
  
"You already know I can." He was right of course, Draco had already come to that conclusion by himself.  
  
" _ How _ ?" That was the part he hadn't yet figured out.  
  
"You know."  
  
"I don't!"  
  
And then Potter's hands were on his face, cupping his jaw between gentle palms. It was a familiar motion. Potter had touched him like this when they had been in Hogsmeade, and he found himself remembering the roughness of Potter’s palms and the warmth of his fingers. His fingertips were buried in the soft strands of hair tucked behind Draco's ears and he was tilting Draco's head up slightly, ensuring that their eyes were completely locked onto one another. If this had been anyone else Draco would have expected to be kissed, and he was suddenly thinking about the potential softness of Harry's mouth.   
  
Oh.   
  
_ Now _ he knew.   
  
"We…" But he didn't expand. He didn't need to. It wasn't something he could even admit to himself in his head never mind out loud. But Potter knew.  
  
_ "Yes."  _ The word escaped his lips as a breathy exhale and it seemed to be suspended in the silence between them.  
  
"What's going on with me Potter?" Draco asked and he hated how demure he sounded, but he couldn't bring himself to raise his voice any louder. And he couldn't bring himself to make demands when he was being touched so reverently.  
  
"Even if I tried to tell you everything, there's so much you won't even believe."  
  
"I need to know." Potter was letting go of him, and Draco swayed slightly on the spot, the loss of Potter’s hands throwing him off balance for a split second.  
  
"Here." Potter produced two items from his bag.  
  
"This is mine." Draco said with a frown as he reached out and took the gold banded Memory Orb out of Potters hand. He had received it for his fifteenth birthday, he had searched for it the morning after his return but he couldn't find it so he just assumed it had been lost during the previous year. Obviously not.  
  
"And this one is mine. You gave it to me for Christmas." Potter held it out to him and Draco took it with unsteady fingers. Whatever Draco thought they were to each other he hadn't expected it to go this deep. Exchanging presents was a relationship thing, not a...casual-ship thing. He was fucked. So so fucked.  
  
"Look through them, yeah?" Draco nodded, "You'll find a lot of questions answered. But I don't doubt there'll be more." Harry's hands covered the Orbs that were nestled in Draco's palms and Draco tried not to shiver as his fingertips brushed against the inside of his wrists.  
  
"If you still want to know more, come find me. I won't turn you away." Then Harry was reaching up and tucking a piece of blonde hair behind Draco's ear with a smile that was so soft and caring that it couldn't possibly be directed at him, "I'll never turn you away."   
  
Draco put the Orbs in his bag but he still didn't know whether knowing the truth would be worth it. He'd already signed his life away. What could Potter possibly do for him now?


	28. Chapter 28

It took two days for Draco to dig out the Orbs that he had stashed in his trunk, hiding them amongst a pile of neatly folded shirts that were far too formal for any situation he would find himself in at Hogwarts. He had been in a heated debate with himself ever since he had turned away from Potter and left the classroom on Monday evening. If he looked any further into this he might as well just start digging his grave now. He wouldn't be able to come back from it. But he needed to know, and knowing that answers were within his reach had been almost too much for him to bear. He pulled the curtains closed around his bed and cast the strongest silencing charm he knew, he would not benefit from anyone overhearing what he was doing. He put Potters Orb to one side. He wanted to see which memories his past self had deemed important enough to keep safe, before seeing things from Potters point of view.  
  
He hesitated. He had to make a choice right now, between knowledge and ignorance. But with knowledge came the danger of being discovered. He had abandoned the notion that his memory loss was caused by an accident, and if that wasn't the case then someone in Hogwarts Obliviated him and removed him from the school. Which meant there was someone within these walls watching him and probably reporting back. If what Potter was saying was true, could he turn his back on what the Gryffindor was offering in order to save himself? He would have said yes. Three weeks ago. But the things Potter made him feel, had him questioning everything.  
  
Memory Orbs were simple objects, it wasn't possible to sort through the memories inside and choose what to view, he would need to start from the most recent memory and work his way backwards. It would be confusing, but he hoped that things would start to unfold the further back he went. He tapped his wand on the glass and waited for the first memory to take its ghostly form above the curved surface. It was Potter. The version of Potter was laying on his back (probably on his bed if Draco were to make assumptions) looking out at him with sleepy eyes and a dopey smile, obviously having just been woken up if the state of his hair was any indication. Draco watched as his own upper body appeared behind Potter’s, he raised a hand and pushed Potter’s mop of black hair to one side so that he could press a kiss to the skin behind his ear.   
  
_"Happy Birthday Harry._ " His past self said into Potters ear.  
  
 _"Hmm, love you._ " He had expected Potter to feature in his memories, he hadn't however expected their relationship to have gone this far. He watched as the memory unfolded. He couldn't imagine being as attuned to someone's body as it seemed his past self was. He couldn't imagine being the one to touch Potter in that way. The moment his ghostly self reached Potters trousers he blushed and skipped to the next memory. There were some things that felt too strange to view, his and Potters sex life seemed to be one of those things. Merlin. A sex life. He'd had a sex life, a rather active one it seemed, with Potter of all people.   
  
He quickly worked out the dates, everyone knew Potter's birthday was July 31st. Which meant that they had been together for some, if not all, of the Summer holidays. Draco had to wonder where they had been, certainly not in the Manor and definitely not with Potter's muggle relatives.  
  
The next memory was of himself holding his sixth year Hogwarts letter and OWL results, he quickly skipped that one. He had seen the letter for himself and the memory wouldn't hold any new information.  
  
  
 _"You've lost me Father_." Draco watched as he faced off with his Father, the man looked entirely the same as Draco had remembered. The same stern set of his jaw, the same straight line of his shoulders and the same harsh look in his eyes. He and his Father had always had a difficult relationship, his Father had always pushed him to be the Heir he expected and Draco always felt like he was scrambling to keep up with those expectations. But that didn't mean that his heart hadn't ached when he'd woken up in an unfamiliar mansion and been told that his Father had perished at the hands of Potter. He had barely been given time to process it when the Dark Lord had requested (demanded) entrance back into Malfoy Manor, with the Lord title changing hands the wards had automatically reset and Draco had to manually allow those not of the Malfoy bloodline to enter the estate.  
  
" _Harry is my Soulmate_." _  
  
_Out of everything he had expected to discover, that had not been on the list. Merlin, Soulmates. That explained a few things. He thought that he should be more concerned about that particular discovery, but he wasn't. He felt something familiar settle into place inside him, like he had been on edge for weeks and all of a sudden the final piece of a puzzle had clicked into place.  
  
 _" My Son_." Not once in his life had Draco ever seen his father looking at him like that. Looking at him like he was seeing him for the first time. It was just the two of them in the memory but he knew Potter had to have been there.  
  
 _" Avada Kedavra!_" Draco watched, motionless, as the figure of his Father stepped in front of the curse meant for him. His Father fell to the floor and in the memory Draco followed, falling to his knees and letting out a wail so loud that he had to check the silencing charm around his bed. The curse was followed by a high pitched cackle, out of sight but entirely recognisable.   
  
Bellatrix Lestrange. Draco couldn't remember much about her, she had been in Azkaban since he was a baby and he had found out that she had escaped at some point last year only to be killed soon after. He had visited her in Azkaban once, the year before he had come to Hogwarts. His Mother had been completely against it, but his Father had encouraged him to go as a deterrent. Not a deterrent to prevent him doing illegal things, a deterrent to prevent himself from being caught. The only thing he remembered from his visit was the high pitched cackle of insanity from his Aunt Bellatrix, and the overwhelming feeling of being icy cold and feeling such a depth of despair that he had never felt before in his whole ten years of life. It had sent him into a fit of tears and his Mother had to apparate them to a secluded room in manor so he could calm down before seeing his Father  
  
This memory answered the question of how his Father died. Potter hadn't been responsible, Bellatrix had, and his Father had sacrificed himself. Draco felt a tiny ember of warmth alight in his heart for the man his father had proven himself to be. He might have been cold and calculating but he was still a Father  
  
The next couple of memories weren't anything too interesting. One of Binn's lecturing, Draco supposed he had used this to study with and hadn't bothered to remove some of those memories. He only watched for a few seconds before moving on. Then one of Potter lying down on his back tossing a snitch up in the air and catching it one handed. He looked relaxed, and utterly at ease. A stark contrast to the Potter that Draco had seen around the school the past few weeks. Although, he supposed your Soulmate (Soulmate! Merlin!) suddenly losing their memory would do that to a person.  
  
" _Give me back my Snitch Potter. For once that one doesn't belong to you._ " His past self was teasing in a dry tone which Harry seemed to get because he was laughing and tossing the Snitch off to one side, presumably to Draco himself and he was scrubbing his hands through his hair, messing it up even more than usual. Draco couldn't work out why his past self had chosen that particular memory to save. For all intents and purposes it was perfectly ordinary. But then Potter said -  
  
 _" You were wonderful out there today._" And Potter was smiling off to one side with that fond carefree smile that Draco had only seen exchanged between members of the golden trio, it had never been aimed at him until now. And it was just a little bit wonderful.  
  
The next memory started with a cry of _"_ _Expecto Patronum_." Draco had wondered when he had discovered his Patronus. He had tried to keep track of the dates but his past self hadn't regularly stowed away any memories that had date indicators. He was only wearing his school shirt and trousers though, with his tie and robe discarded and his sleeves rolled up (probably the last time he would ever be able to do that), so it must have been at least during Spring. If the last memory was from after the Slytherins last match of the year, which was usually in May, then this memory had to be some time between March and May. The Owl that erupted from his wand was still a surprise, even though he had seen it in real life already.  
  
 _" Draco. Darling, open your eyes_." And Draco couldn't deny the frisson of pleasure that curled in his stomach at hearing Potter refer to him as Darling. He'd never been bothered about having a pet name, he always thought they were unnecessary and cheesy but it sounded so right rolling off Potter's tongue.  
  
 _" It's Hedwig._" Hedwig, that was the Owl's name, Draco had heard it in passing before but he hadn't quite been sure it was the Owl they had been talking about. Then the memory turned into glorified pornography once again and Draco quickly skipped it.  
  
 _" You are so powerful Dragon, you saved my life_." Draco almost reached out to touch the ghostly figure of his Mother who was embracing him tightly. She looked worn down and tired but she was whole. When he had been in Malfoy Manor surrounded by Death Eaters he hadn't dared to ask about his Mother. His Father was dead and his Mother was absent, that either meant she was also dead, or she had defected which, in and of itself, was a death sentence anyway. It had been a throwaway comment from the Dark Lord that had solidified his fears, "Do not follow in your Mother's treacherous footsteps," he had said. Draco missed her so much, but he hadn't allowed himself to think of her up until now, it wouldn't do to dwell on something he couldn't change. He would never be able to see her again and he had tried to come to terms with that.  
  
 _" You warded your bedroom Draco. I've been in there since you left. The Dark Lord has been trying to break in day and night but your wards held_." _  
  
_He wasn't loyal. He had known this. One couldn't climb into bed with Harry Potter (literally) and continue to be loyal to the Dark Lord. But to know that he had outright defied the Dark Lord made him extremely glad that the Dark Lord needed him, or else he was sure to be dead.  
  
He moved through the rest of the memories quickly after that one. The realisation of what he had oathed to the Dark Lord made him feel almost sick to the stomach. There were a couple more classroom and lecture based memories that he quickly discarded and then the memories erupted into Potter.  
  
 _Potter kissing him in the middle of the Great Hall._ He wished he could remember how everyone had looked at them. He couldn't even imagine doing such a thing, but his past self obviously had. He must have defied the Dark Lord before this point, he wouldn't be able to kiss Potter in front of the entire Student body without word leaving Hogwarts and making it back to the wrong people. _  
  
_ _Potter undressing him and touching him and kissing him even more._ Their first time, it had to be, with the way Potter was questioning everything he was doing, checking to make sure he was okay. Draco might have lingered on that memory for slightly longer than he should have.  
  
He watched himself being interrogated by Dumbledore under Veritaserum. He listened to himself denouncing the Dark Lord and swearing his love and his loyalty to Harry Potter. He watched as Potter made his declaration of love with his arms wrapped tightly around his waist.  
  
By the end of his time with Potter, when the Orb started showing things he actually remembered, he couldn't deny the sadness that had sunk over him. This was a life he couldn't have now, he rubbed at his left forearm distractedly. It had been taken from him, forced out of his mind and replaced by lies and half truths. He had been led to believe he was loyal. He had been led to believe he was important. But the Dark lord only wanted what Draco had access to, and even though he didn't quite know why it was so valuable, Draco would be damned if he allowed the Dark Lord to get his hands on it.  
  
X   
  
Draco placed Potter's Memory Orb carefully next to his own on the bed in front of him. He didn't know how long he had been sitting there viewing both of their memories. It was clear to him that Potter had prepared for this moment, his memories were well organised and easy to follow. Showing quick snapshots of their time together, giving Draco a good idea of the nature of their relationship. Potter had chosen some of their best moments, but he hadn't shied away from their bad moments too, there had been a couple of arguments slotted between the good memories. It had actually helped to see some semblance of normality between them. They might have been happy, but they weren't perfect.   
  
He wanted what his past self had. He could finally admit that. He wanted the sleepy cuddles and the soft kisses and the heated touches. Would Potter even accept him now? If Potter ever found out his most precious secret the best Draco could hope for would be a look of disgust, one that Potter usually reserved for a particularly slimy Potions ingredient. The worst he could imagine was getting hexed, bound and thrown into Azkaban. Potter was a good person, but just how much could he forgive?  
  
Draco looked at the journal that was sitting on his bedside table. He had wondered why the pages were erased every day, he just assumed it was some sort of secrecy spell. He was glad he hadn't used it much, he'd tried twice but he could never get his thoughts organised enough for anything to make sense. He had a feeling that Potter was waiting for him to write something. He could imagine him sitting with the book open in front of him, waiting for words to appear on the page. He had probably been waiting for the past two days. But Draco needed a little longer. He grabbed his wand and cast a quick Tempus. It was getting late and Draco welcomed the distraction of his bedtime routine. He didn't think about Potter or his lost memories until he was tucked into bed. He stared at the journal, lying unassuming on the bedside table next to him, until he finally fell asleep.


	29. Chapter 29

Harry frowned as he landed unsteadily on his feet next to the stone plinth that held Dumbledore’s Pensieve. Each time Dumbledore took him into a memory more and more of Voldemort's past was being revealed to him. At first it had been difficult to connect the young eleven year old child to the Dark Lord, Harry almost couldn’t believe that he was ever that young. He had soon discovered that Tom Riddle might have been a child in body but his mind was already corrupted and twisted by the call of dark magic.   
  
"He killed his family?” Harry asked.  
  
“He killed his Muggle family, and he placed the blame upon Morfin Gaunt.” Dumbledore said.  
  
“How?” Dumbledore directed him towards the two chairs at either side of his desk and Harry followed the motion of his arm and took a seat. It helped settle the slight dizziness that always came from exiting the Pensieve.   
  
“There was simply no way to tell who had cast the spell, and when discovered by Ministry Officials Morfin confessed to everything under the influence of Tom’s False Memory Charm. By the time I had located him and extracted the real memory it was, unfortunately, too late to prove his innocence. He became just another victim of Lord Voldemort.” Harry twitched at the mention of a False Memory Charm, his mind instantly went to Draco and their current predicament. He filed it away for later use, with every intention of mentioning it to Ron and Hermione next time he saw them.  
  
“Did anyone ever suspect what he was doing? All the murders?” Harry had to remember that these may have been Voldemort’s first murders, but they were by no means his last.  
  
“No one but myself. You have met teenage Tom Riddle, if you remember Harry?” He did, vividly. Young, charming, intelligent and fiercely handsome, “He was quite skilled at charming those around him and bending them to his will. It is how he managed to get so far without being suspected.”  
  
“And the ring?” Harry asked, he was speaking of the Gaunt ring that Tom had taken from Morfin before leaving him unconscious in the Gaunt house. Dumbledore opened one of the drawers of his desk and after reaching into the depths he pulled out a small unassuming ring with a single square stone which he placed upon the desk facing Harry.  
  
“It was cursed of course,” Harry glanced at Dumbledore's blackened hand but he didn’t say a word, “I should have suspected as much, I’m afraid my impatience got the better of me.”  
  
“Sir, you said that he liked to take trophies from people. He had taken things from the Muggles in his orphanage and now the ring and the locket. Why did he take them? He had to be doing more than just cursing them for someone else to find, surely?” Dumbledore looked at him over the gold rim of his half-moon glasses, his eyes were sparkling at Harry and he was smiling fondly across the desk.  
  
“That, my dear boy, is exactly why we are having these lessons. You will find along the way that Tom collected more than just trinkets and Family heirlooms, as for what he was doing with them. That is exactly what we are here to discover. But that is a different conversation for another time.” The old Wizard looked over at a spinning silver instrument, whatever it was doing must have conveyed some sort of information because Dumbledore was pushing himself to his feet, “I believe that is our cue to end our lesson for this evening.”  
  
“Yes, Sir.” Harry stood too.  
  
“Goodnight Harry.”   
  
Upon leaving the office Harry made his way straight to the Gryffindor tower. It was late and curfew was fast approaching. As he walked down the deserted corridors the thoughts racing around his mind were almost as loud as the hollow echo of his footsteps. He passed by the large frost covered windows and glanced down at the snow covered grounds as he walked. Ever since the attack on Hogsmeade Harry had thought he could see the swirl of black cloaks out of the corner of his eye, hovering just outside the Hogwarts boundaries, but when he tried to strain his eyes to look for them they were nowhere to be seen. He daren’t mention it to Ron or Hermione, he was almost certain they were products of his imagination, he didn’t think Dumbledore would allow Dementors to terrorise the inhabitants of the village.  
  
Tonight Harry had Voldemort on the mind, as he did after every meeting with Dumbledore. He had stressed the importance of knowing where Tom Riddle had come from and they were gradually following his path from Hogwarts and through his adult life but Harry was still a little unsure why. Facing Tom Riddle in Second year had already given Harry a brief glance into his life, he had already known that Voldemort was an orphan, he had known how charming Riddle had been, how conniving, how intelligent, but now Harry was starting to see what he had done with those skills and he was starting to understand how a young boy could go on to become the darkest wizard of their time.   
  
After everything they had talked about Harry felt slightly guilty that he couldn’t get Voldemort’s False Memory Charm out of his head, you’d have thought that stopping a Dark Lord would take precedence over his personal life. But it was the first time he had heard of a connection between Voldemort and memory charms. Not only that, but Tom Riddle had been young when he had visited the Gaunt house, young enough to be underage and still in Hogwarts. Which meant the information  _ must  _ be in the Hogwarts Library.  
  
X  
  
“False Memory Charm?” Hermione asked him from her place at a low study table in the Gryffindor Common room. Harry had come in from Dumbledore’s lesson and walked straight over to where his two best friends were sitting. Harry was glad he had an excuse to escape the Common Room earlier when Ron had admitted he had yet to start their latest Defence essay and Hermione had glared at Ron fiercely when he had asked for her help with it. The Portrait had just opened to let him exit when he heard Hermione’s  _ “It’s due tomorrow morning Ronald!” _ . He wasn’t surprised to see that they had yet to leave the table he had left them on.  
  
“That’s what Dumbledore said it was called.”  
  
“But why didn’t he mention it before? We’ve been looking for any kind of connection for weeks and all of a sudden Dumbledore mentions it offhandedly?” Hermione sounded exasperated, and Harry could relate.   
  
“I don’t know, maybe he didn’t make the connection because of how long ago it was.” Harry offered.   
  
“Did he tell you how he countered it?” Ron asked as he dropped his quill down onto the table and rubbed the cramp in his wrist. Hermione had been completely unwilling to cut him some slack, every moment he had tried to sit back and have a breather she had jumped down his throat about “ _ responsibility”  _ and failing his NEWTs. Harry tried not to take sides, he thought they both had a point, even if they both took it to the extreme sometimes.  
  
“He said that he entered Morfin’s mind and found the true memory.”  
  
“Legilimency then?” Ron asked.  
  
“Must be.” Harry shrugged, Dumbledore hadn’t been particularly forthcoming with that many details.   
  
“So what are we thinking? That he cast this False Memory Spell on Malfoy or that he cast it on everyone else?” Ron looked between them, he’d only been brought up to speed a few days ago so he was still a little unsure of their game plan. Hell, Harry had been in the loop from the beginning and he didn’t even know their game plan. Winging it was definitely on the cards at the moment.  
  
“Everyone else?” Harry suggested, looking to Hermione for confirmation.  
  
“We’re assuming that Malfoy was obliviated, it's everyone else who had a false memory planted.” Hermione confirmed.  
  
“No it isn’t.” Ron said out of the blue, and Harry suddenly had the image of a Muggle cartoon lightbulb illuminating above his head.   
  
“Pardon?” Hermione asked, clearly not coming to the conclusion that Ron had come to.  
  
“Not everyone who had their memories altered would have a false memory. You said that you and Malfoy were in the papers, right?” Harry nodded, “So all those people have had their memories erased as well, but they wouldn’t remember Dumbledore announcing the accident like Hermione and I do. You said that everyone's memories have fallen into place, Malfoy is where we expect him to be, to the general population erasing the knowledge would have no effect on their lives whatsoever, there wouldn't be any point to creating a false memory for them.”  
  
“Oh my God, you’re completely right. Why didn’t I think of that before?” Hermione looked like she wanted to hit herself in the head with a book, so Harry reached over and squeezed her shoulder gently. She wasn’t the only one who had been completely blind to that little fact.  
  
“So we’re looking for three types of memory charms. A generalised memory charm for the entire magical population, a Draco specific memory charm, and a localised memory alteration charm for Hogwarts?” Harry asked, with no small amount of confusion. Surely whatever Voldemort was trying to hide wouldn't be worth three Memory charms? Maybe Draco had a point when he tried to write down all the things that were confusing him, maybe Harry should take a leaf out of his book? God knows there are a lot of questions on his side of things that need an answer.  
  
“This is just getting more and more complicated as we go along.” Hermione sighed and rubbed at her temples distractedly. Harry was glad that Hermione was agreeing with him at least.  
  
“Who found Draco?” Harry asked out of the blue as the silence between them stretched, “Allegedly.” He added.   
  
“Crabbe and Goyle. I think, as far as I know everyone else had gone to the changing rooms but Malfoy needed to catch the Snitch so he stayed out and Crabbe and Goyle went looking for him.”  
  
“Crabbe and Goyle,” Harry murmured to himself, “Their Fathers are Death Eaters.”  
  
“Imprisoned Death Eaters.” Hermione reminded him.  
  
“What better way to make sure they don’t fail? They get promised that their Fathers will be broken out if they spread the new story, no new memories necessary. They look like heroes in that situation, why wouldn’t they take the praise?” Harry theorised.  
  
“And Madame Pomfrey? She would have treated him before he got transferred to St Mungo's?” Hermione said.  
  
“Snape!” Ron cried. The students sitting at the closest cluster of chairs looked over at them with disgruntled expressions, “Snape,” Ron murmured, “He’s a trained Healer. They wouldn’t have to lie about taking Malfoy to Madam Pomfrey; they could say they took him to Snape and Snape took him to St Mungo's.”  
  
“This is getting to be a pretty elaborate lie.” Hermione said with a frown, “Things like this are usually simple. The more simple the story, the easier it is to lie about. I think we’re going in the wrong direction.” If they were going in the wrong direction then Harry had no idea what direction they should go in. Right now this theory was all they had.  
  
“What if it was Snape? All of it?”  
  
“Harry-” Hermione began to speak but he already knew what she was going to say. Every year they blamed Snape for something and every year they ended up being wrong, but Harry could remember the way he looked when he and Draco had followed him down Knockturn Alley, he didn’t look at all innocent. Dumbledore could vouch for the slimy git all he wanted, Harry wasn’t ever going to trust him.  
  
“Think about it. Someone in the school needed to get close enough to Draco to get the better of him before he even had the chance to cast a single spell, and Draco wouldn’t dare draw his wand on a teacher. Then he had to be transported out of the school without anyone seeing him, he could have easily used an Invisibility Potion, and he knows some of the secret entrances so he can quickly get out of the castle when he’s summoned to the Death Eater meetings.  _ And  _ he’s inside the Hogwarts wards to plant the memory of Dumbledore’s announcement.”  
  
“It does tie itself up quite nicely, I guess.” Ron said. They simultaneously looked to Hermione, as though their story needed her stamp of approval.  
  
“Fine,” She sighed deeply, “Snape goes to the top of the list. But we’re not going to discount other options.” She said firmly, which had Ron and Harry nodding insistently and silently counting it as a win.  
  
“I’m going to head up to bed, anyway. I can give you an hour in the Library tomorrow, we can look up the False Memory Charm to see if it has any relevance.” She began to pack up her books into a large stack so she could easily carry them upstairs to the girls dormitory.  
  
“Goodnight boys.” She hoisted her bag onto her shoulder and they watched as she walked away.  
  
“Honestly Ron, we were lost without you mate.” Harry admitted. He felt a little guilty that he hadn’t told Ron sooner, they could have been closing in on an answer by now if all three of them had worked together from the beginning.  
  
“Yeah? Well next time have a little more faith, right? Now help me finish the last four inches because I’m drawing a blank and Hermione wouldn’t help me anymore.” Harry laughed and scooted his chair closer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't like it when the trio just happen upon solutions to their problems, I like to make them work for it just a little bit haha.
> 
> I hope you'll all forgive me for taking a few days out of posting. It was unexpected or I would have warned you in the last chapter, but I got a little overwhelmed with this being my first Christmas with a child, and finally being able to see family after a long year of little to no contact (Fuck you Covid). But posting should be back to daily from now on, perhaps a couple days off for New Years, but we shall see :)
> 
> Hope you all had a lovely Christmas and I mentally toast you all to the end of a truly fucked up year.


	30. Chapter 30

It took Draco a couple more days to come to terms with the unfamiliar memories that had been taken from of his very own mind. Potter had given the Memory Orbs to him on Monday, he had shut himself away to look through them on Wednesday, and it was another two days before Draco could figure out what this meant for him and his future. Draco knew he needed to talk to Potter, but he had needed time to process. So he had spent two days buried up to his neck in school work and had actively ignored the green eyes that seemed to follow his every move. He listened attentively to the lectures in their classes, he applied himself with laser focus in Potions (creating a near perfect Dreamless Sleep), and he concentrated on non-verbal casting in every subject. He found that to be significantly easier now he had full access to his magic...To Potters magic.   
  
That little piece of information had definitely caught his attention. It certainly explained why his magic had increased exponentially in such a small period of time, and why it felt so different. His magic had always flowed smoothly through him, while Potters roared up in response to even the simplest of spells. If he was honest he wasn't surprised that Potter had access to such power, a part of him wanted to be bitter about it (because of course Perfect Potter had such ridiculous magical reserves) but the other part of him was starting to enjoy the feeling of fire racing through him each time he cast a spell.  
  
It was in the middle of Dinner when Draco looked up at the wrong time and met Potters gaze head on. He had been avoiding the gaze for so long that the sudden eye contact made him blink in surprise. Draco nodded to Potter and cocked his head towards the door, it was nothing more than a mere tilt of his chin, hardly noticeable to anyone who may have been watching, but as always Potter knew what his intention was. He was still finding it difficult to come to terms with Potter knowing him better than anybody else, maybe even better than himself (certainly better than himself in this instance, he hardly knew who he was these days). They met in the deserted Entrance Hall and Potter was quick to tug Draco into a small alcove next to the dungeon entrance and out of sight of the large doors that led to the Great Hall.  
  
“I’ve come to a decision.” Draco said stiffly, trying not to think about how close their bodies were, and how their breath mingled in the few inches of air between them. He was grateful that Potter had opted to have dessert because he could smell the sickly sweet treacle and cream on his breath, overriding anything else that he may have eaten that evening. Draco quickly angled his head away, he was sure his own dinner of beef and potatoes wouldn’t be appealing to anyone's olfactory senses. Potter remained silent, but Draco could hear the way his breath caught in his throat, and he could see the way Potter’s shoulders tensed and squared off, almost as though he was preparing himself for any worst case scenario that he had managed to conjure up in his own imagination.   
  
“I want to remember.” Draco said simply. Because it really was as simple as that. No matter what choices he would have to make afterwards, he needed to remember.  
  
A long gust of air released from Potter all at once, as though he had been holding his breath from the moment he had tucked them into the alcove. His shoulders relaxed instantly and he leaned back against the wall as a slow smile crept over his face at the realisation that he didn’t need to fight to get Draco to agree. Draco had no doubt that Potter would have fought for him. He hoped he would, if Potter truly did love him like his memories said he did.  
  
“We think we can do it.” Potter said, and how had Draco not noticed how deep his voice had gotten? “We have a theory.” And it was deep. With a rough, gravelled undertone that Draco probably wouldn’t have noticed if they hadn’t been standing so close together.  
  
“Will you meet us in the back of the Library after dinner? I’m sure Hermione has a lot of questions that might get us closer to figuring everything out.”  
  
We. Us.  _ Hermione _ . Because Draco had momentarily forgotten that with Potter came his entourage, and with that came complications. How could he sit next to the Muggle-born girl and accept her help? Knowing what he had said to her in the past, knowing what he had  _ done  _ to her in the past. How she must be judging him right now...Poor Draco Malfoy, begging for help from people who don’t even like him, how the mighty have fallen. And the other one, the Weasley, who Draco had mocked so incessantly day after day, insults about his appearance, his home, his  _ Mother.  _ No. No, he couldn’t do that just yet. He could deal with Potter, he knew where he stood with him, he knew what to expect. But not the other two, not yet.  
  
“I-I’d really rather not. I don’t think that’s the best idea.” Potter looked at him searchingly, with his dark eyebrows pulled down low and his eyes squinting slightly behind those atrocious glasses.  
  
“Okay. Just you and me then. This isn’t the best place though-” Potter said just as they heard the door to the Great Hall opening and the quick footsteps of someone making their way across the Entrance Hall and up the Grand Staircase, “-Let’s go somewhere a little more appropriate.”  
  
Draco had to lean away slightly as Potter began to dig into the pocket of his robe, he pulled out a wadded up ball of silvery fabric. Draco wanted to question him on it, but when Potter let the material fall free from his hands and tumble to the floor in a cascade of tacky silver material Draco could see that it was a cloak.  
  
“You’d better wear this, so you can follow me.” Potter said, holding it out to Draco while quickly peeking out from their little alcove to see if anyone was wandering about.  
  
“I’m not putting  _ that _ on.” Draco said as he looked at the old robe with extreme distaste.  
  
“Well I would but you don’t know where I’m taking you so it’ll be a bit hard for you to follow me when I’m invisible.” Then it clicked.  
  
“Invisible?” Draco’s eyes widened to an almost impossible degree as he looked closely at the cloak that Potter was holding out to him, “It’s an invisibility cloak.” Draco whispered reverently, and he wouldn’t have been able to hide the awe that seeped into his voice if he had tried. Potter had a way of turning invisible, because of bloody course he did. So many things over the past few years suddenly made so much sense.  
  
“It’s a family heirloom.” Harry smiled at him and Draco found himself staring at more than just the silvery invisibility cloak, “Do you want to try it?” Potter bounced it a little in his hand, indicating that Draco should take it from him. Draco took it with both hands, it was a bit of a squeeze in the small space to get it around his shoulders but once it was on Draco looked at Potter expectantly.  
  
“You might need to crouch slightly.” Potter said with that same soft smile, “I can still see your feet.” Draco hunched over slightly and he looked down to see his feet disappear into nothingness as the cloak covered him, “Follow me, the corridors should be pretty quiet at this time of day but let’s not tempt fate. Hood up.” Draco pulled the hood up and over his head, pulling it closed over his face, he wished he had a mirror so he could actually see himself completely disappear from view.  
  
Draco followed Potter through the castle, he had been right though, the corridors were practically deserted and Draco almost felt silly sneaking around under an invisibility cloak when there was no one even around to see him. When they made it to the seventh floor corridor he had a sudden sinking feeling that they would be heading towards the Room of Hidden Things, he really didn't want to go in there right now. Now that he had decided to turn his back on the Dark Lord going in there would just remind him of the task he was supposed to complete. But he didn’t say a word as Potter walked back and forth in front of the blank expanse of wall. He didn’t want to announce that he knew what the room was, especially when no one was supposed to know about it, he had been assured of that. But then, this was Potter. Impossible Potter.  
  
He squeezed his eyes shut in a long slow blink the moment he crossed the threshold. He steeled himself against the sight of the huge cavernous room he had become familiar with, the towering piles of junk that had accumulated from centuries of Hogwarts students, and he almost didn’t want to open his eyes again. When he finally did open his eyes, an inevitability that Draco couldn’t prevent (unfortunately). The room in front of him was nothing like the one he had gotten used to over the past month. Instead of acres of lost and broken items, Draco saw nothing more than an informal sitting room. Cluttered between the four walls were at least a dozen armchairs and a generous handful of sofas scattered at random angles across the floor, large worn rugs overlapped on the flagstones, and a large low oak coffee table sat in front of a single roaring fireplace. The fire in the grate crackled happily as Draco took a step further into the room and Potter closed the door behind them.  
  
"How did you know about this room?" Draco asked, he wanted to know how likely it was that Potter could have walked in on him trying desperately to complete his task.   
  
"Dobby told me last year when we created Dumbledore's Army." The DA, Draco remembered seeing a couple of things about the DA in Potters memories, "How do you know about it? Did you remember something?" Draco turned away from Potter's beseeching expression which looked equal parts curious and hopeful.  
  
"Somebody told me about it." Somebody was a very vague term for ' _ The darkest Wizard of our time told me exactly how to gain entrance _ ' but Draco wasn't about to address that just yet  
  
"Right." Potter's eyebrows had drawn low and he was staring at Draco with a small frown of worry.  
  
"I'm not him." Draco said suddenly, he needed to nip this in the bud before Potter read too far into things and expected more from Draco than he was willing to give, "I'm not who you want me to be."  
  
"I want you to be you. I fell in lo-"  
  
"Don't. Don't say it." Draco interrupted, knowing that Potter used to be in love with him was one thing, he didn't need Potter to keep reminding him of what he had lost. What he could never have again, even with the return of his memories. Potter sighed deeply, but he complied.  
  
"You only lost your memories from the end of August, we got together in November, that's only two and a bit months. People don't change that much in two months."  
  
"I'm not the same." Draco said. He wasn’t trying to put Potter off from helping him, he just needed him to understand.   
  
"I know."  
  
"If my memories don’t come back I don't know if I can feel that way about you again." It was a lie of course, if he allowed himself he could see himself falling for Potter rather easily. But he wasn't going to allow himself. He didn't want to be a third wheel in his own relationship, Draco, Potter, and the version of Draco that Potter had known before. Those lost memories would always be hanging over him, and Potter would always be waiting for him to live up to them.  
  
"I know." Harry hung his head slightly as he finally broke his gaze and stared at the floor between them. He didn't sound very happy about it and Draco hoped he hadn't cut off his only lifeline to his past, maybe Potter was only helping him because he expected to fall back into the same relationship they had before?  
  
"Will you still help me?" Draco had to choke back his pride and everything he had ever been taught about being a Malfoy in order to ask that one single question. Merlin forbid him, but he needed Potter.  
  
"Yes." There was no hesitation on Potter's part.  
  
"I'm...I've done things." He needed Potter to know, to understand, Draco wasn’t the same, he would never be the same.   
  
"I don't care."  
  
"You should." He didn't know why he was arguing this point, he should just accept the help and move on, rather than trying to convince Potter to say no. It seemed that in the wake of Potter’s large, green, puppy dog eyes, all of his Slytherin pride and self-preservation had fled him. He was trying to give Potter an escape route, making sure that Potter knew he wasn’t the innocent Draco Malfoy that he had been before.  
  
"Whatever you've done I doubt that you wanted to do it, and that makes a world of difference." That was the problem, he had wanted to do it at the time.  
  
"To some people it wouldn't." He was sure that if he stood in front of a group of Aurors and claimed that he facilitated the Dark Lord's plans that he would be locked up in Azkaban pretty quickly.  
  
"It does to me." Potter said quietly, it was infuriating how good and noble Potter actually was. A stark contrast to himself.   
  
The words hung in the air between them and Draco watched the fire dancing and flickering at the other side of the room. The silence was thick and awkward, as neither of them quite knew what to say after those confessions. They were still standing in the room, barely past the entrance, so Potter turned to the sofas closest to the fire and motioned to them with one hand.  
  
"Let's sit down." He led the way over and Draco took the seat closest to the flames without even looking to see where Harry was placing himself.  
  
“What happened?” Harry was able to ask for the first time since Draco had arrived back at the castle.  
  
“I fell off my broom,” Draco said stiffly, “I was in St Mungo's for a week and then I was taken home to recover.” The words flowed from his mouth like he was reading from a script and Harry wondered how many times he had told that exact same story, in those exact words.  
  
“Okay. But what really happened?” Harry asked again, hoping to get more from the blonde than the script that he had been given from the Dark Lord.  
  
“That’s what happened.” Draco snapped and glared at Harry for questioning him, “I fell off my broom and I was in St Mungo's for a week.” He repeated, as if by rote.   
  
“What did the Healers have to do?” He hoped that the question came across as innocent and nothing more than a polite inquiry into Draco’s health. He didn’t want Draco to shut down on him and storm away. He needed this information.  
  
“I don’t remember.” Draco said and he crossed his arms over his chest and looked away from Harry and into the fire, anything to get away from those searching eyes. Potter definitely knew more than he was letting on, Draco could be sure of that. He had to convince himself once again that Potter was not a Legilimens.  
  
"Who came to get you from St Mungo’s?” Harry softened his tone in the hope that Draco would calm down and continue to share.  
  
“I don’t remember.” Draco said stubbornly without tearing his eyes away from the fireplace.  
  
“Draco,” Harry said with a breathy sigh, “I know you weren’t in St Mungo’s and I know that you didn’t go straight to the Manor. Do you remember waking up somewhere you didn’t recognise? I know that you went somewhere first to see Voldemort-” Draco didn’t flinch like so many others would have, but he did shudder slightly and flex his left hand as though remembering the feeling of someone's hand wrapped tightly around his wrist, “-And I know that Voldemort-” A twitch of his chin and a clench of the same fist “-Convinced you to allow him and the Death Eaters to pass through the Manor wards.” Draco refused to look at him and he gave no indication as to whether Harry was correct or not.  
  
“I just want to help you. But I need to know what happened.” Harry’s voice was low and careful, as though he were talking to a frightened animal who would scarper at any moment.  
  
“I woke up in a house that was practically falling to pieces, it might have been pretty, a long time ago.” Draco began to speak and Harry watched the profile of his face, memorising the way his mouth slowly formed the words. He spoke down to the floor, rather than turning to face Harry, his Mother would have a few things to say about his etiquette he was sure, “They told me I had been in St Mungo’s for the past week, but the Dark Lord needed me so they had collected me from there, they said that my memory had been affected so it was likely that some details would come and go for a little while.”  
  
“Who told you that?” Harry asked. Draco pursed his lips and shook his head in response, Harry got the message, don’t ask who.  
  
“The Dark Lord told me that my Father had died recently and he had been forcefully evicted from the Manor when the Lord title passed down to me. He told me that he couldn’t possibly conduct his business in that old house and he would be honoured if I’d allow him to re-enter the Manor. He said it was for the cause.”  
  
“So you allowed them through the wards?” Harry asked.  
  
“Of course I did,” Draco said irritably, “You don’t say no to the Dark Lord.”  
  
“But you wanted to?” Harry knew he had hit the nail on the head when Draco’s entire body stiffened. His back straightened, his shoulders squared, and he folded his hands in his lap. Prim and proper, wrapping his old etiquette training around himself like a defensive cloak.  
  
“I felt useful. Needed.  _ Important.  _ The Dark Lord told me I was important, and my Father...” Harry knew Draco’s issues with his Father well enough to fill in the blanks, he wanted to make his Father proud and carry on his legacy.  
  
“Why were you sent back to the school?” Harry asked.  
  
“The Dark Lord needed me to do something.”  
  
“What?” But Harry didn’t get a response. Draco pursed his lips once again and shook his head and Harry knew not to press for more information. Not yet.  
  
“You know there was never a Quidditch accident don’t you?” Draco nodded stiffly, “Someone attacked you on the second floor corridor and managed to take you from the Hogwarts grounds. That’s where I found your wand. That was on the twenty first of September, a week later Voldemort was back in Malfoy Manor, and almost a week after that you were back in School.”  
  
"Do you remember anything that might fit with that version of events?" Potter asked softly. Draco stared into the fire, he watched as the flames licked the stone and the logs popped and cracked in the grate. He could feel the warmth on his face and it reminded him of something.  
  
"I was cold." He said quietly, without looking at Potter, "I remember being cold. Every now and then, I would feel a warmth in my fingers. It helped, but it wasn't ever enough." He clenched his hands into fists as the memory surfaced, as though his fingers were still burning from the icy cold. His voice was soft and pensive, like he was being completely swept up in the memory.   
  
"I haven't thought about that before. I just thought it was a dream." He said, his voice was suddenly louder as he shook off the brief hint of a memory and continued to stare at the orange flames.   
  
Harry knew exactly what he was talking about. He remembered the feeling of being so cold his joints cracked under the pressure of normal functionality. He remembered huddling up as close to a fire as humanly possible just to feel any warmth in his body. He had thought that it was because Draco had been taken from him, that his body was reacting to the forced removal of his Soulmate both mentally and physically. But it had been Draco. They had been connected all along.  
  
"That was me." Harry said quietly. Draco's head snapped to the side to look at him, "The warmth, it was me. I felt cold all the time, so I used to sit in front of the fire as much as I could. I didn't realise it was coming from you.”  
  
Draco's mouth opened, and then closed, as words of gratitude refused to leave his lips. But he knew exactly what Draco was trying to say. He knew what his Draco would have said, " _ Thank you Darling, you know how much I despise being cold." _


	31. Chapter 31

“Are you sure about this?” Hermione asked for at least the fourth time, maybe the fifth. She held her wand loosely between her fingers and kept her arm down by her side. She looked down at the book which was sat open on the table next to her hip, just to double check that everything was as it should be. It had almost been all too easy to find the book they would need once they knew the name of Voldemort’s spell, there had only been a few references to a False Memory Charm, and they had searched through those references until they had come across this particular book. The one that possibly contained a counter charm.  
  
“Yeah sure, why not.”  
  
“Ron?” Harry sighed deeply from where he was leaning against the wall. Ron had agreed almost to readily and Harry still wasn’t sure if he knew exactly what he was getting himself in for.  
  
“Come on mate, it’s fine. Hermione knows the spell.” Ron assured his best mate.  
  
“We could find someone else?” Harry offered, but he knew it was useless. They couldn’t find anyone else, that’s why they needed Ron to act as their test subject. If there were any other way Harry sure as hell wouldn’t allow Ron to be the first person to test it.  
  
“Really? You gonna be able to explain to them that you want them to stand in front of an experimental spell because you’ve had a gay love affair with a Malfoy for the past 12 months?” Ron scoffed and rolled his eyes.  
  
“Well I could…” Harry trailed off, he wasn’t sure what he was about to say, because they had already gone through all the possibilities, that’s how they had come to this conclusion.  
  
“Listen, it’s fine. We’ve already been through this, we can’t use it on you because you aren’t under any memory spell, and Hermione will be the most capable of casting it properly the first time, so there’s no point in us trying it on her until we know it works. So just chill out. And like Hermione said, even if it’s cast wrong there’s no negative effects. Right?”  
  
“That’s what the book says.” She nodded and scanned through the passage once more to assure herself of the same thing. Even though she had already read it dozens of times.  
  
“And if it backfires and fries your brain?” Harry asked, but he tried to say it with a bit of a grin so that it didn’t seem like he was questioning Hermione’s skills too much. Because he absolutely completely believed in her, but memory magic had fucked them all over multiple times and he couldn’t live with himself if his best friend turned into a vegetable because of him.  
  
“Please, Harry,” Ron scoffed and rolled his eyes, “Have a bit more faith in Hermione.”   
  
“Okay. Just do it.” Harry finally said, conceding to his best mate and hoping that they were right about this. Hermione took a deep breath, consulted the Charms book  _ again  _ and raised her wand.  
  
“I really hope this works.” She murmured under her breath, only just loud enough for Harry to catch the tail end of her words.  
  
“Verum Memoria.” Unlike most spells there was no light that erupted from the end of Hermione’s wand, and no indication that the Latin words had even had an effect. Hermione checked the pronunciation and according to the book she had cast it correctly.  
  
“Ron mate? Anything?” Harry asked. It took Harry a moment to notice that Ron’s face was scrunched up in pain, his eyes were clenched shut to block out all light from the room and his mouth was pressed tightly into a thin line. He didn’t offer an answer.  
  
“Ron?” Hermione asked as well, and she took a few steps forward to place a hand on his forearm.  
  
“A minute.” He sounded pained as he hissed out the single word through tightly gritted teeth, and he held up a hand to silence them and hold off their questions until he was ready.  
  
Harry grabbed the back of a chair and dragged it over, he placed his hand on Ron’s shoulder and gently pressed him down onto the hard wooden seat. He met no resistance, Ron sat willingly, but still his eyes didn’t open. Harry’s hand remained clamped onto his shoulder in a tight squeeze, silently offering him support despite not knowing exactly what was going on.  
  
“I think it worked.” Ron said after a minute. He rested his elbows on his knees and placed his forehead into his hands, as though all of a sudden his head was too heavy for his neck to support, “Don’t suppose either of you have a headache potion? My head is fucking raging.”  
  
“I have Muggle pills.” Hermione said and she grabbed her bag from where she had left it leaning against the table leg and dug through it to find the small packet of paracetamol.  
  
“Why?” Harry asked in confusion.  
  
“Female problems.” She blushed slightly but handed Harry the packet so that he could pop two out into his palm and Harry knew he didn’t need to know anymore on the subject, “A pain potion works a little better but they take a day to brew so I’ve always found that the pills work well in the meantime.”  
  
“Take two, swallow them whole.” She advised as Harry handed him one, “They’re sugar coated so they won’t taste horrible as long as you don’t try to chew them.”  
  
“Aguamenti.” Harry cast at an empty glass the Room of Requirement had provided. It took Ron a couple of tries, but eventually he was able to swallow them and drain the glass. All while clenching his eyes shut against the light in the room and returning his head to his hands once Harry had taken the glass away.  
  
“Fucking Merlin.” Ron groaned once he was finally able to speak, though he still hadn’t opened his eyes to look at either of them, “Definitely wouldn’t recommend that.”  
  
“Did it work?” Harry asked quietly.  
  
“Yep.” Ron said. He lifted his hands to his temple once again and began to rub slow soothing circles into his skull, “You guys snogged all the fucking time.”  
  
“You remember everything?” Hermione’s eyes were wide and curious and Harry could see her fingers inch closer to the quill and parchment that lay in the middle of the table.  
  
“It wasn’t supposed to bring everything back, it was just supposed to get rid of the false memory. The book didn’t mention long term memory retrievals. But maybe the spell acts as an umbrella counter charm for most memory problems,” Harry didn’t think she even realised she was talking to herself, “Like Finite Incantatum perhaps?” She looked up at Harry, as though the question was actually directed at him. Hermione’s thinking process was always full of rhetorical questions and Harry and Ron had both learnt just to go with it until she came to some sort of conclusion  
  
“Maybe.” Harry answered half-heartedly when she continued to look at him, for once waiting for an answer.  
  
“Hello,” Ron waved one arm in the air for attention, “Half dead over here.”  
  
“Don’t be so dramatic Ronald. The pills will kick in soon and you’ll feel much better, though it does make sense that you’d have a headache if all your memories have returned.”  
  
“We can’t cast that on everyone individually though.” Harry said, “Is there a way to magnify it over the whole population?”  
  
“Without the after effects?” Ron added from the side lines.  
  
“I’m not sure. I wasn’t even expecting it to work as well as it did. It does make me wonder though…” Hermione trailed off as she got lost in her thoughts.  
  
“Hermione?” Harry prompted.  
  
“Well, it’s just...Why would Voldemort use a spell with such a simple counter charm? Surely there are far more spells out there that are virtually impossible to reverse? Why use something so easy?”  
  
“I don’t know.” Harry murmured.  
  
“Maybe it wasn’t meant to last?” Ron said from his chair, he had passed the point of needing to support his head, and he was slowly allowing his eyes to readjust to the light in the room. Hermione sighed deeply and sat down in another chair heavily. They had requested a rather simple room today, bare and plain, with just a sofa or two against the walls and a study table and chairs in the centre. Somewhere private to cast a spell, they had requested, and as usual the Room had provided the perfect place.  
  
“Do you ever feel like you’re always two steps behind?” She asked, “I don’t think we’ve been this lost since Nicholas Flamel in first year.”  
  
X  
  
“We aren’t getting anywhere.” Harry said to Draco the next night, they had met up again inside the Room of Requirement and not for the first time Harry was glad that he knew of its existence, sneaking around would have been harder than ever with an unknown threat hovering over their heads, “It just doesn’t fit.”  
  
“What are you trying to work out exactly?” Draco asked. Harry had told him most of the things they had come across but it didn’t mean that he had followed everything that had been said.  
  
“All of Ron’s memories returned even though Hermione only used the most simple memory retrieval spell. We don’t know why Voldemort-” Draco shuddered slightly, “-Would use a spell that had such a simple counter charm. And on top of that we don’t know why it took two weeks for You-Know-Who-” Harry conceded to calling him by his nickname just this once, “To send you back to the castle.”  
  
“I was only in the Manor for a week.” Draco interrupted with a frown as he began to see Harry’s point. There were a lot of gaps, a lot of things that didn’t add up to form the bigger picture.   
  
“So, why keep you under for so long then? If all he wanted was to get into the Manor and give you this mysterious task?”  
  
“There was one other thing he asked me to do,” Draco said, two things actually, but Draco wasn’t about to tell Harry of the second thing, “He wanted me to sign the papers that give me full access to the Lestrange estate. Apparently they all died, I didn’t even know until he gave me the paperwork.”  
  
“The Lestrange estate?” Harry questioned, he was glad that Draco was starting to feel comfortable enough to speak to him but he still had to take it slowly so that he didn’t scare the blonde away.  
  
“He kept asking whether I would have access to their Gringotts accounts. It sounded very important to him. But the lawyer said it can take a month or two of liaison with the Goblins for me to have access.”  
  
“He needed something from the Lestrange Gringotts vault?” Harry asked.  
  
“It seemed that way.”  
  
“And he wanted access to Malfoy Manor too? Do you think there was something in there that he wanted?”  
  
“Possibly, I wasn’t allowed out of my room most of the time. But it seemed like the Death Eaters were searching through the rooms.”  
  
“Something from the Lestrange vault, something from Malfoy Manor,” Harry listed them off on his fingers and paused at the third one, it made sense, it explained why Voldemort needed Draco to come back to the School, “Something from Hogwarts?” He asked. The only confirmation he needed was the tightening of Draco’s mouth and the clenching of his fists in his lap.  
  
“Is he looking for just one thing? Or three things?” Draco pursed his lips but lifted his chin in a half nod, “One?” No response, “Three?” Another half nod, nothing more than the slight inclination of his chin, but it was more than enough for Harry to understand.  
  
“And he needed you for all three things, that’s why he didn’t kill you. If he had killed you everything would have passed to me.” Harry said matter-of-factly and ignored the way his stomach curled in displeasure, as it always did when he thought of any harm coming to Draco.  
  
“You?” Draco asked in surprise.  
  
“You thought it was a good idea at the time.” Harry said with a wry grin.  
  
“You’d be the most powerful Wizard in the entire country. You’d have the Potter, Black, Malfoy and Lestrange fortune.” Draco looked at him in awe.  
  
“And between us we have all four.” Harry smiled at him. He might have gone a little far though, because Draco quickly broke their eye contact and turned away to stare directly at the floor under his feet, “Sorry.” Harry murmured in the uncomfortable silence that he had caused.  
  
“That does fill in a couple of the gaps though. We had wondered why you weren’t killed straight away and why he sent you back to Hogwarts rather than keeping you locked up in the manor. And it makes sense now that he would erase your memories, he wouldn’t have been able to force you to allow him into the Malfoy grounds, the wards wouldn’t allow it, and you can’t get any type of imperious through the Goblin Wards in Gringotts. He needed you to be willing, which of course you would never be if you were to remember that you had defected and why.”  
  
“A thrilling thought Potter. I routinely wonder why no one’s bothered to murder me.” Draco rolled his eyes at the thought.  
  
“I do.” Harry shrugged.  
  
“Well then, obviously your life is infinitely more exciting than mine.”  
  
“I’ll let you reserve judgement for when you get your memory back.” Harry chucked, low and pleasant to Draco’s ears.  
  
“D-do you think I will? Get my memory back I mean?” Harry rarely heard Draco stumbling over his words, so when he did it came as a surprise, a stark reminder that Draco wasn’t always the calm, collected and put together person he wanted everyone to think he was. A side of Draco Malfoy that not many people had been privy to.  
  
“We’re working on it, we just need to figure out the spell. You know it would be easier if you came to search with us.”  
  
“No. No, I can’t. I wouldn’t be welcome.”  
  
“Ron remembers everything now, he wouldn’t be awkward with you at all.”  
  
“I’m not...ready. Maybe soon.”  
  
“Okay,” Harry agreed, “Maybe soon.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Would like to wish you all a Happy New Year. I hope 2021 brings with it happiness to you all.
> 
> 2020 has been a wild ride, and for all the bad that Covid has brought I still try to look on the bright side. For me it's given me time to spend with my baby without the pressures of work, and it's given me the time to re-discover my passion for writing. I really hope that everyone reading has had at least one good thing come from the past year, even if it is something small. 
> 
> I look forward to posting the next chapter in 2021 and seeing you all on the other side :)


	32. Chapter 32

Slughorn was talking. Slughorn had been talking for an hour and fifteen minutes of their two hour class period and Harry had listened to about twenty minutes of it before he had zoned out. He was sat with his elbow on the table and had his head propped up on his palm, while he stared lazily at the buttons on Slughorn's waistcoat, they were barely keeping his rotund middle section contained and Harry could see the shiny gold buttons pulling against the material.   
  
His quill fell from the loose grip of his right hand, and Hermione kicked him under the table. Again. She had been trying to get him to focus for the past forty-five minutes but she hadn’t been successful. His thoughts were too scattered and disorganised. He was trying to figure out their problem with Draco’s memory, trying to figure out who had kidnapped him in the first place, trying to figure out a who and a what and a how. Every time they sat down to talk about it they found themselves in the same hole, circling the same problems, unable to corroborate any of their ideas with Draco, who still refused to sit with Ron and Hermione. They had figured out one problem, how to reverse the False Memory Charm. But they hadn’t found a way to expand the reach of the counter charm and they couldn’t cast it on everyone individually, especially when the original spell seemed to cover the entirety of Wizarding Britain. They also hadn’t found a way to return Draco’s memories, Harry had tried casting Verum Memoria on him, Draco had stood in front of Harry’s wand with clenched fists and gritted teeth as he put himself at the mercy of a Gryffindor, but the spell had passed over him. Causing nothing more than a vague recollection of where he might have placed his missing Seekers glove.  
  
“A Potion may be adapted over time-” Slughorn was continuing on in the same vein and Harry swung his eyes over to Draco. He was sitting up straight, listening intently to the Professor and making notes as quickly as he could. Harry wished he could have some of his focus.  
  
“-changes to certain ingredients can change the potency of-”   
  
Harry continued to stare at Draco. He could tell that whatever he was being forced to do was weighing heavily on his shoulders and he could tell that Draco was still torn between the light and the dark. They had met a few times and they spent the time talking about what Draco could remember, they tried to come up with theories that he, Ron and Hermione hadn’t come up with yet. But more than anything Harry spent the time trying to tell him what his life had been like without laying it on too thick. The first time Harry had told him where his Mother was Draco had bit the inside of his lip and stared at the wall a little to the left of Harry’s ear rather than look him in the eye, and Harry knew that he was trying to keep himself under control.   
  
“-experimentation with a Forgetfulness Potion-”   
  
Harry watched Draco scratch at his cheek and leave a slight smudge of black ink across his cheekbone. He would practically die of embarrassment if someone didn’t tell him about it before the end of the lesson.  Hermione kicked him under the table once again and Harry turned to her with a deep huff.  
  
“Listen!” She hissed to him across the table.  
  
“Just changing an ingredient here and there allowed me to increase the length of memory loss from a few moments, to a few months, to even a year.” That certainly was enough to catch his attention. Hermione was writing notes as fast as she could, jotting down everything Slughorn was saying practically word for word, “For medical purposes of course.” Slughorn added with a jovial chuckle. One of Hermione’s hands shot straight up into the air while her other hand still continued to take notes at an almost impossible speed.  
  
“Miss Granger?” Slughorn called on her.  
  
“Professor, which ingredients did you adapt to cause such a long period of memory loss?” Slughorn almost seemed to bounce in his shoes.  
  
“Lethe River Water of course, Miss Granger. I’m sure you could have figured that one out yourself. As for the other ingredient I think I’ll keep that my little secret, but if anyone wishes to earn five points for their House, feel free to come to me after class to make a guess.”  
  
“Professor?” Hermione raised her hand again.  
  
“Miss Granger?”  
  
“Does the storage of the Potion change?”  
  
“No, of course not. A standard glass vial stored at room temperature, as always. Now where was I - Miss Granger?” Slughorn snapped out her name once again in response to her raised hand. Even Harry could see that he was starting to get extremely irritated with the questions.  
  
“Sorry sir, I was just wondering if the brew time is affected. The forgetfulness potion is usually an extremely short brew.”  
  
“Extra time is indeed needed to neutralise the effects of the Mistletoe Berries. But I must stress that this is merely experimental, and the difficulty of the potion greatly increases every time the method is adapted. It is not to be brewed by anyone below Mastery level.” He eyed Hermione, as though she was about to whip her cauldron out and begin to brew it in the middle of class.  
  
“Oh no Sir, of course not. I just find it fascinating that you were able to adapt a potion in such a way, it’s genius really.” Slughorn puffed out his chest and smiled kindly at Hermione, all trace of irritation vanished from his countenance and he basked in the compliment. The Slytherins at the other side of the room sniggered at her enthusiasm, only Draco had caught on to her reasoning.  
  
“Fascinating it is Miss Granger. Why, when I was teaching my Fourth year class there was a particular student who was quite interested in the entire process. He even approached me after class and asked to see a sample. Mind you, this was a couple of months ago, and it was still in a very experimental phase but he was quite pleased to see the progress. There are some students who are just built to be Potions Masters.” Slughorn smiled at Hermione for a second before coming back to the present moment and realising that he still had a class full of students to teach, “Where was I again? Oh yes, the potency of Potions can be adapted through the use of different cauldrons-”   
  
Harry made eye contact with Hermione, her eyes darted to Draco and then back to Harry and her lips pursed into a single thin line and Harry knew exactly what she meant. If Slughorn was experimenting with a memory potion that can erase a year's worth of memories, then the likelihood that Draco had been given some of that potion was very high. Harry had learnt that there was no such thing as a coincidence at Hogwarts.  
  
X  
  
“We’ve been looking in entirely the wrong place. A potion, of course!” Hermione said dramatically as she brought the Fourth year potions book down from her dormitory and joined Harry and Ron at a table in the common room. They were sitting in front of a narrow window and Harry caught sight of Hagrid trudging down the length of the forbidden forest treeline, with his great beard and his large moleskin overcoat speckled white by the falling snow.  
  
“I think this also means that Snape isn’t involved.” Ron said with a grimace, “Unfortunately.” He added onto the end. Harry balked at the suggestion but even he could admit that Ron had a point. Snape would never use another Potion Master’s potion, even if he did get his hands on it. He had too much pride in his own abilities to believe that someone else could brew it as well as, or even better, than he could.  
  
“You’re probably right Ron.” Hermione agreed, she was already halfway through copying down the potion from the book and onto a blank piece of parchment. Even though it was two years old and no longer relevant to her studies, she still couldn’t bring herself to vandalise a book.  
  
“What about that student he mentioned?” Harry added, “Do you think he managed to get his hands on some of it?”  
  
“He must have,” Ron said, “No one’s so interested in a potion that they ask to see it. He’d just need to distract Slughorn and grab a vial of it, easy done.”  
  
“We need to work out what he changed.” Hermione said as she poured over the ingredients list, “Lethe River Water, what else?” She tapped the end of her quill against her notes as she went back and forth between the two, “Mistletoe Berries!” She cried suddenly and circled the ingredient, “He said it needed a longer brew to neutralise the Mistletoe Berries, he would only need to do that if he increased the number of berries he added. We just need to figure out what the new measurements are and then adapt the Antidote accordingly and we should be able to reverse the effects.”  
  
“What if we get it wrong?” Harry asked, he was thinking about Draco’s well being. He didn’t want his Soulmate to ingest an experimental potion that may make things much worse.  
  
“Well, worst case scenario, if we make it too strong we could be forcing him to remember everything.” Hermione said with a concentrated frown as she barely dragged her eyes away from the parchment to look up at them.  
  
“That’s good isn’t it?” Ron asked.  
  
“When I say everything, I mean everything,” Hermione looked at them both and she took a deep breath to gear herself up for a mini-lecture, “We would be forcing his brain to recollect every little minute detail that has ever happened to him, simultaneously. Every time he’s ever blinked, every time he’s ever been in pain, every memory from childhood, he could potentially even remember his own birth. It would, in effect, drive him insane.” She looked seriously between them, “I don’t think I can work this out alone Harry, I think I need Malfoy’s help. His potion knowledge outstrips mine significantly. You need to convince him to meet with us, with me at the very least.”  
  
“I’ll see what I can do. We’re meeting up tomorrow night, after Quidditch practice.”  
  
X  
  
“Malfoy.” Hermione said by way of greeting as she entered the Room of Requirement, followed closely by Harry, who closed and locked the door behind them.  
  
“Granger.” Draco replied. He was sitting at a large square table, exactly where Harry had left him when he had made his bid to allow Hermione to join their session. It was big enough to sit eight people, two on each side, but half the table was taken up by Draco’s own research. He had understood the reason for Hermione’s questions in their last Potions class and he had already started to research the potion and the individual ingredients that could have possibly been changed.   
  
Harry could see Draco’s hands clasped together in his lap, hidden underneath the table, he could see him wringing his fingers together and trying as hard as possible to keep the movement from being perceptible above the table. He was nervous. Hermione let her books drop down heavily and she chose a seat close to Draco without sitting directly next to him. It was probably a smart move, having Hermione that close might have just been too much for him to cope with. Harry sat on the other side of the table, as far away from the two of them as possible in order to give them the space they needed to work. He knew he wouldn’t be much help in their current situation so he pulled out his barely started Charms essay with the intention of working on it while they figured out this new potion.  
  
“Hermione has some great ideas on where we can go with the Antidote.” Harry said, in an attempt to break the heavy tension between the two of them.   
  
“Really? Have you been able to calculate the additional brewing time per Mistletoe Berry?” Draco challenged.  
  
“Twelve and a half minutes.” Hermione answered immediately.  
  
“Okay,” Draco said begrudgingly and Harry took that to mean that Hermione had been correct, “But have you factored in how many additional stirs are needed to incorporate them?”  
  
“One and a quarter for every berry.” Harry watched as the confrontational expression fell from Draco’s face.  
  
“Yes.” He said with a frown.  
  
“But I don’t know how many to add, or how much Lethe River Water.” Hermione admitted.  
  
“Well that’s simple,” Draco said and he pulled an open book into the space between them and they both leaned over the page, “The Lethe River Water only causes a vague forgetfulness, it’s like if you forget to put out a candle before you leave a room and you have to go back and check,” Hermione nodded in understanding, “It’s the Mistletoe that causes the Water to stabilise and become potent. I’ve looked into the history of the potion, when brewed to the exact standards of the original brew the effects last for a week.” Hermione looked at Draco in surprise, she hadn’t expected him to have done his research so thoroughly and she looked rather impressed. Harry smiled to himself and tried to concentrate on the essay he was attempting to get at least halfway through before the end of the evening.  
  
“So we simply multiply the Berries and the Water by the number of weeks?” Hermione asked, “That’s an awful lot of potion, and a horrendously long brewing time.”  
  
“That’s not what we have to worry about. It’s the antidote we have to worry about.” Draco reminded her.  
  
“The Galanthus Nivalis!” Hermione exclaimed, “The antidote requires only one flower.”  
  
“One flower per vial of the original brew.”   
  
“So that means-” And that’s when Harry decided to drown them out, there was no way he would be able to keep up with whatever Potions nonsense they were talking. He was just happy that they were actually getting along. He hoped that they would be able to cast Verum Memoria on Hermione soon, they had held off just in case Ron had any after effects of gaining all his memories back at the same time, but he seemed to be fine. Hermione had really stressed the importance of looking out for any disorientation or grogginess but it had been a couple of days and Harry was pretty sure that there weren’t any lingering effects. He couldn’t wait for Hermione to remember who Draco had been, then she would understand why all this was so important.  
  
When they had first gone to bed after Ron’s memories had been returned, Ron had whispered to him over the gap between their beds, speaking loud enough for his voice to carry over the noises of the other three boys snoring.  
  
“We’ll get him back mate.” And Harry rolled over onto his back and looked at the crimson canopy overhead, “I get it now, I remember your Draco.” The sentiment was made even more significant by Ron’s use of Draco’s first name, something which he rarely did even after a year of Harry and Draco being together.   
  
“Thanks Ron.” Harry replied quietly, “I’m sure he’s still in there somewhere, he’s just scared and a bit lost.”  
  
“We’ll find him.”  And then they both rolled away from each other, and settled down and tried to sleep. They hadn’t mentioned their little conversation since then, but Harry noticed the renewed vigour that Ron put into their little “Draco meetings”.


	33. Chapter 33

It had taken a week for Draco and Hermione to figure out the Antidote to the Memory potion, and then another week for the ingredients they needed to arrive via Owl post. So by the time Hermione and Draco were ready to brew, November had ticked over into December. It had been a month since their last, and only, Hogsmeade trip and Harry couldn’t believe how far they had come in just a month. He had convinced Draco to talk to him, he had managed to explain the entire situation to Ron, and they were already on the cusp of returning Draco’s memories.   
  
But for the past few days something had been off with the Slytherin. It was an uneasiness in his countenance, the shifty way he would look around himself to make sure he wasn’t being watched, the way he would wrap his robes just a little tighter around himself, like they were offering an extra layer of protection. Harry had noticed the strange behaviour, but he hadn’t been able to work out why he was acting that way. Harry figured it had something to do with whatever he was keeping secret. Harry just had to hope that Draco would tell him everything once this Potion was brewed.  
  
Harry and Ron were sitting on a long low sofa, watching Hermione and Draco who were taking it in turns to stir the potion and adding the white snowdrop flowers. By Harry’s understanding they had to be added one by one every counter-clockwise stir and then the potion needed to be stirred clockwise exactly two and a half times. It was a gruelling process for the fifty-something flowers and all Harry could hear was “ _ One, Now...One, Two...One, Now. _ ” It was precise work and Harry knew he would never be able to concentrate for that long, so he was glad that he was taking a backseat throughout the entire process.  
  
In the two weeks between Hermione and Draco bonding over their shared Potions knowledge Harry had cast Verum Memoria on Hermione. Her memories had returned simultaneously much like Ron’s had, and she was also left with a splitting headache. Luckily they had been prepared and had a pain potion on hand.   
  
“Oh my God, Draco.” Her hands flew to her mouth and she looked at Harry with wide tearful eyes, “Oh, Harry.” She reached for him, standing up out of the chair on unsteady legs so that she could throw her arms around his shoulders and hug him tightly around the neck, “Oh, Harry.” She repeated into his ear. Harry didn’t say a word, he just hugged her back for as long as she would let him. He needed it just as much as she did.  
  
Hermione’s warning of  _ “Five left”  _ reminded him why they were there. As soon as the last flower was added the Potion needed to be stirred continuously until the cauldron started to boil and then it needed to be left to simmer for six hours, with three clockwise stirs every half an hour. It was a long brew and it was about as complicated as Harry had expected, but it hadn’t been impossible. Not for Hermione and Draco anyway.  
  
“Once that’s finished, it needs to cool down a little and then Draco can drink it.” Hermione said and she dropped down on the low sofa between Harry and Ron and stretched out her back.  
  
“Brilliant.” Harry said and he grinned at her before turning his smile to Draco. He was settling himself down on the edge of an armchair, staring at the fireplace and the slow simmering Potion that hovered above the flames.  
  
“Draco,” Harry called over to him. The blonde looked up in surprise, almost like he’d forgotten that the three Gryffindors were even in the room, “Is everything okay?”  
  
“Yes,” He responded immediately, “Yes, quite okay. I just can’t wait for this to be over.”  
  
“Well, we still have to reverse the False Memory Charm on everyone else.” Ron commented, reminding everyone that although this was a victory, it was hardly the end. Harry continued to watch the way Draco absentmindedly stared at the cauldron. He looked paler than usual, and his eyes were rimmed red, as though he hadn’t been getting enough sleep.   
  
“We’ll just…” Hermione started, but when she failed to come up with an excuse she looked at Ron desperately.  
  
“Nip to the Kitchens.” Ron finished for her, “It’s gonna be a long night and we could do with some snacks. Come on Hermione.” They left the room quickly and Harry just smiled at their retreating backs.  
  
“Are you okay?” Harry asked again. He stood up and made his way to the chair that was closest to Draco, even going as far as to shuffle it closer, the four legs dragging the rug until it bunched up in front of him.  
  
“I got a letter.” Draco said, he had become increasingly more comfortable talking to Harry over the past few weeks and it didn’t take as long to coax a conversation out of him, “One from the Dark Lord and one from my Lawyers.”  
  
“Okay.” Harry had a feeling he knew what this was about.  
  
“The Goblins have approved my heir status to the Lestrange vaults.” That was exactly what Harry had expected him to say, “The Dark Lord wants me to take the train home for the Holidays, and he wants me to visit Gringotts while I am in London. He said I will be met by a colleague.” The word colleague was said with such distaste that Harry knew that could only be a Death Eater.  
  
“Will you tell me what he wants you to get?” Draco didn’t answer for a few long seconds. He looked at Harry, then looked at the potion that was sat simmering away above the small flame.  
  
“He wants me to find him an item that he gave to Bellatrix. Her instructions were to keep it safe and the Dark Lord believes that she placed it into the Lestrange vault before she was imprisoned. He describes it as a golden cup, with an engraving of a badger on the side. He said it’s priceless.”  
  
“You should leave it in the vault.” Harry said, “Anything that Voldemort-” A shudder, “Wants this badly couldn’t possibly be a good thing for us.”  
  
“What do I do? I can’t stay in the Castle over the holidays, the Dark Lord will know when I don’t board the train. And we have proof that Hogwarts clearly isn’t the safest place for me.” Harry felt a little sad that his one happy place was the root of someone’s fear and anxiety. Hogwarts wasn’t always safe and secure, things had happened within the walls that should never have happened, but it was Harry’s escape from a life with the Dursleys and he could never think badly of it. He wished that was the same for everyone.  
  
“Come have Christmas with me.” Harry reached out and placed a hand on his forearm, Draco pulled away immediately and folded his hands onto his lap. Not very far out of Harry’s reach but enough for Harry to get the message,  _ don’t touch me,  _ “With all three of us.”  
  
“Let’s see if this works first.” Draco said stiffly. Harry didn’t need to reply, the door was flung open behind them and Ron and Hermione entered the room. They were levitating a large platter between them, cheeses, crackers, fruits and little finger sandwiches all adorned the silver plate, so much so that Harry was surprised that nothing had fallen off the edge as they transported it through the castle.  
  
“Five minutes until it needs a stir.” Hermione announced as she crossed the room quickly and joined Draco next to the fire. Leaving Ron to settle the platter onto the coffee table.  
  
“Alright mate?” Ron asked.  
  
“Yeah, I will be.” And Harry sent out his hopes to any and every deity that he could think of that this potion worked, that by midnight he would have his Draco back with him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short one today. I felt like the last chapter was running a little long, so I decided to split it into two :) 
> 
> Next chapter is a good one! I hope haha


	34. Chapter 34

They stood together in a vague square, with all three of the Gryffindors staring at Draco as he stood with a goblet in his hand, full of a potion which was still warm enough to send tendrils of soft steam up into the colder air above.  
  
“Are you ready?” Harry asked, his words were met by silence as Draco stared down into the iridescence of the Potion’s surface.  
  
“You don’t have to Draco.” Hermione said, sensing his hesitation. She knew the slightest miscalculation could have devastating consequences. The human mind was fragile after all. “If you’re not sure-”  
  
Draco watched the liquid inside swirling around the glass goblet, as he tilted the stem this way and that. The iridescence shined across the surface and he knew that it was because of the number of snowdrops they had added to the concoction. They had invented a potion, he and Hermione. It was loosely based on the Memory Potion, but they had adapted it to the point of it being almost an entirely new method. He should make sure they had written everything down properly, all of their research and their thought processes. Some people had made a fortune off their potions. Although, this one probably had more medical uses than most, and he just couldn’t see Hermione Granger wanting to make a profit from someone else’s pain.  
  
Everyone around him had gone quiet. He knew Hermione had said something but he hadn’t really been paying attention. He knew this was it. This was his way back to who he had been before. This would fill in the gaps. It was his way back to Potter. His way back to his Mother. But even though he held the antidote in his hands he was still hesitating. He had told himself time and time again that he wasn’t the same person he had been, he had told Potter the same, reminding him that even if his memories returned he wouldn’t necessarily be the Draco he remembered. Or the Draco he wanted. His left forearm burned slightly as it did now and then, it served as a very present reminder of the monster he had promised fealty to.  
  
“Draco?” Harry said again, his voice was soft and questioning, and it brought Draco’s attention away from the goblet and to his green, green eyes. Very green eyes. Expressive. Kind. Draco had never noticed how kind Potter’s eyes were. “You don’t have to.” And Draco vaguely recalled Hermione saying the same thing a couple of minutes ago. Before he had zoned out.  
  
The fact was, he knew he didn’t have to. But that was only making the decision even more difficult. He half wanted someone to tell him to do it, to demand it of him, he wanted the decision to be taken out of his hands. At least then he would have someone to blame if it went wrong. He knew Potter wouldn’t do that though, he was too good, too kind. And that had Draco thinking about his kind eyes again. The way he looked at Draco like he had hung the moon just for him. He wasn’t blind, he had seen the way Potter had watched after him. He had noticed the way Potter tried to start conversations, about their research into the Potion, about classwork, about Quidditch. He had been trying so damn hard to keep Draco in his life and Draco hadn’t given him very much in return.  
  
“Kiss me.” Draco looked up and met Harry’s eyes across from him, barely two steps away and flanked by Ron who stood to Draco’s left and Hermione who stood to Draco’s right, completing the square.  
  
“What?” Potter’s confused expression would have made Draco smile secretly to himself in any other conversation.  
  
“Kiss me Potter.” And Draco gripped the goblet tight in one hand and he crossed over to Harry in two long strides.  
  
“No-I-” He stammered as Draco came face to face with him. He tilted his head up slightly, and offered himself to Harry. Giving him the perfect angle to lean down and press their lips together, like he knew they had so many times before.  
  
“If this goes wrong I’ll lose my mind.” Draco reminded him, as though Harry didn’t already know the consequences, “So in case that happens I would like one last decent memory. Now, kiss me Harry.” Draco’s free hand found its way to the front of Harry’s jumper, he fisted his hand in the soft wool and tugged slightly so that their chests were perfectly aligned.   
  
Draco thought he would have to ask again, but then Harry’s lips were coming down onto his own. He pressed forward with even pressure, soft and chaste and oh so very warm. Harry’s hand fell to Draco’s waist and held him steady against his chest, and the move caused a noise to make its way up his throat, a low desperate whine that Draco felt entirely powerless to stop as it escaped from between his closed lips. When Draco’s lips parted, he had planned to pant out an apology for the needy sound that he hadn’t even known he could make, but it died in his throat when Harry’s lips parted too, and the closed mouth chaste kiss turned into something so much more. They barely moved their bodies, just open mouth moving against open mouth, and tongue against tongue, their lips brushing against each other like they were continuing a dance that they had started a long time ago.  
  
Draco pulled away first, with his chest heaving and his mouth pulling in great lungfuls of air that Harry had stolen from him. They were still chest to chest, leaning against each other like neither of them could bear to stand alone. Draco suddenly understood how one kiss from Harry Potter could turn his entire world upside down. One kiss in a broom shed and Draco had chosen him above everyone. Because Harry was worth it. Draco leaned away slightly, not far enough for Harry’s hand to fall from his waist, but far enough for him to raise the goblet to his lips and take a long draining gulp.  
  
He vaguely heard Hermione's, “Ron! Get the pain potion ready!” and Harry’s “Fuck, Draco!” before he was pitching forward.  
  
Harry caught him.   
  
His arms came around Draco’s waist as his Slytherin counterpart lost his balance and planted his face firmly into the side of Harry’s neck. The goblet fell from Draco’s hand and landed on the rug at his feet, splashing the last few drops of potion across the embroidered surface.   
  
“Draco, Draco, Draco.” Harry chanted as he righted the Slytherin on his feet, but continued to support the majority of his weight.  
  
Draco couldn’t concentrate on anything but the bright fire of pain that flashed like lightning through his head. Memories raced through his mind's eye faster than he could have ever thought possible and he couldn’t focus on a single detail before they were gone again. And, oh Merlin, the emotions he was feeling. Pain, suffering, pain, joy, love, pain, love, love, love, so much love, but so much pain as well. It hurt, his head hurt. He couldn’t handle it. He couldn’t sort through it. He couldn’t-  
  
“Draco, drink this.” He was being moved, too much. It was too much. His face was being exposed to the cold air, a vast contrast to the warmth he had found himself nestled in.  
  
“No.” He moaned out, high pitched and sorrowful, “It’ll hurt.” He couldn’t drink any more of it, it hurt too much. It was too much.  
  
“No, Darling. It won’t hurt.”  
  
Darling. Darling sounded familiar. The single word dredged up a cacophony of quickly moving memories.  
  
_ “Darling.”  
  
_ _ “Darling Draco.”  
  
_ _ “My Darling.”  
  
_ Harry, Harry, Harry. In each one. Smiling at him, holding him, kissing him, loving him. He trusted Harry, he loved Harry. If Harry said it wouldn’t hurt -   
  
Draco opened his mouth and Hermione managed to pour the potion down his throat, Harry murmured in his ear, encouraging him to swallow.  
  
“It’s okay Draco. It’s okay.” He whispered over and over again. Ron had been able to help them move, so that they could sit down on the floor. Harry leaned back against the sofa with Draco draped over his lap, his head was resting on Harry’s shoulder with his nose turned into Harry’s neck. His eyes were clenched closed. Making his lovely face look pained and distressed. Harry couldn’t relate to the pain he was going through, but Ron and Hermione could, and they knelt down on either side of them and helped Draco drink more of the pain potion. They helped him get comfortable against Harry and all three of them waited with baited breath as Draco’s face smoothed out.  
  
“It’s okay,” Harry whispered into his ear, “You’re okay. I’ve got you. I’m not letting you go again. I’m here.” Draco turned his face back into Harry’s neck.  
  
“Hermione?” Harry asked, “Is this normal?” His large hands stroked over the expanse of Draco’s back, doing his best to soothe his Soulmate but not doing much by way of actually helping.  
  
“I don’t know.” She said and she looked at Draco in concern, “Ron and I only had selected memories removed, and that had been pretty painful to both of us.” Ron nodded in agreement.  
  
“He’s having an entire year forcefully crammed back into his head.” Ron added.  
  
“Quite,” Hermione said but the frown she aimed at Ron said that she didn’t much care for his wording of such a sensitive topic, “I imagine the potion we gave him has helped but all we can do now is wait.”  
  
“Are you okay Draco? Just say yes and I’ll leave you alone until you’re ready.” The answer was spoken into Harry’s neck, muffled and barely loud enough for Harry to hear, “Yes.” Harry sighed in relief and closed his eyes against the persistent prickling in his tear ducts.  
  
“What came first?” Draco continued to speak, quiet and feeble, “What came last?” Harry gripped him tighter, “I don’t know. I don’t remember.” His words disappeared into Harry’s neck and Harry looked down at him in worry.  
  
“Help him Harry.” Hermione urged.  
  
“How?” He asked.   
  
“Tell him what came first.” She said, “Everything’s come back at once and he doesn’t know the order.”  
  
“The-the broom shed.” Harry stuttered out their beginning, following Hermione’s prompts, “Do you remember? You came onto the pitch while I was practicing and you caught the Snitch before I could, we kissed for the first time in the broom shed. Remember?”  
  
“It was stupid.” Draco said in that same small voice that Harry could hardly bear to hear from someone who was usually so strong.  
  
“Yes, it was.” Harry chuckled lightly, relief seeping through his voice at the confirmation that Draco was remembering him. Remembering them. Draco had said that very same thing when Harry had dragged him into their first kiss, “Do you remember seeing me after detention? You healed my hand.”  
  
“Draco Nobody.” Harry heard him mutter. He was referring to the conversation they had while they had been tucked away in the alcove, with Harry begging Draco to choose him. Draco had said it then, he would lose his family, his name, he would be Draco Nobody.  
  
“No, never Draco Nobody. Draco Malfoy, always.”  
  
“Malfoy.” Draco repeated, like he was reminding himself, “Lord Malfoy?”  
  
“Yes, that’s right. Do you remember your first time in the Room of Requirement?” Harry asked. It was something that Harry remembered vividly, kissing Draco, touching him for the first time, their bodies moving against each other. Even though they had been fully clothed Harry remembered being the most turned on he had ever been in his entire life.  
  
“Degenerate.” Draco whispered, and Harry could see the slight curl of his mouth, the slight hint of a smile as Draco sorted through his memories and started to find his way back to him.  
  
“That’s right.” Harry laughed softly. He leaned down and kissed Draco’s temple, when he pulled away Draco turned his head, and looked up at him with stormy grey eyes.  
  
“Do you remember promising me you’ll always find your way back to me?” Harry asked, he ran his hand through Draco’s hair.  
  
“I remember.” Harry clutched him even closer. Anchoring Draco against his chest as his entire world realigned. He was going to be okay, Draco remembered everything and he was going to be just fine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There was never a chance that Draco wasn't going to get his memories back, I'm too much of a romantic to let happen. But all is not well just yet haha


	35. Chapter 35

“Do you remember everything?” Hermione asked. By Harry’s calculation it must have been at least another half an hour before he and Draco had been able to move off of the floor and onto a sofa. Draco had taken another potion in that time, and even Harry (with his inexperience with potions) knew that he had taken way over the recommended dose. Hermione insisted that they check him over properly and make sure that the memories had settled where they should before any of them left the Room.  
  
“I think so.” Draco said. He was picking through a stem of green grapes from the platter that Ron had brought up from the Kitchens, trying to chase away the taste of the last potion he had consumed, while also making up for six or seven hours of being completely on edge.  
  
“And you haven’t remembered more than you should?” Hermione checked, and she made a note on the parchment in front of her. Draco had insisted that they record everything, for prosperity, he had claimed.  
  
“I think a few things are slightly clearer than usual. I remember the play by play of the last Quidditch match of the season in almost exact detail. And I have a strange recollection of a recipe that Mrs Weasley was muttering to herself while she cooked. But I don’t think it’s anything to be concerned about, I’m certainly not going insane.”  
  
“Even the smallest thing is important.” Hermione said as she jotted down their findings. Harry just stroked Draco’s lower back from his seat next to him.  
  
“It’s nice that Malfoy’s back to normal and everything, but we still have the small problem of everyone else still having no memory.” Ron piped up from where he was stuffing a biscuit into his mouth.  
  
“Cheers Ron, way to bring down the mood.” Harry took a grape out of Draco’s hand and threw it at Ron where it bounced off his head and landed on the floor.   
  
“I was just saying.” Ron shrugged and chose another biscuit.  
  
“Do you remember seeing anyone when you were attacked?” Harry asked.  
  
“No, they came from behind. They must have knocked me unconscious instantly.”  
  
“Let’s just count this one as a win. We can worry about everything else tomorrow.” Harry suggested since there wasn’t anything they could do about it at the present moment. As long as Draco showed no change in his behaviour in public, whoever had attacked him should be none the wiser that he had regained his memories.  
  
“I agree, I think we should leave that for another day.” She finished writing her notes and shuffled all of the parchments and books into a large neat pile, “I think we should head to bed, it’s been a long evening.” She stood up and began to gather her bag together. While Draco had been recovering she had poured the remainder of their potion into individual vials and they sat precariously on the table in a large pyramid, “What should we do with these?” She asked.  
  
“You take them, I won’t be able to hide them anywhere in my dorm without someone noticing.” Draco said. Hermione looked at them in consideration for a few minutes and, as if coming to a decision, she laid her cardigan down on the floor and carefully levitated the pile into the centre of the material.   
  
“Genius.” Harry said, as she bundled up her cardigan and tied the arms around the bundle to keep everything secure. She might have been able to levitate them all the way to the common room, but she certainly didn’t want anyone to ask why she was carrying around so many potions. It might have been past midnight but it was a weekend and the older years stayed up a lot later than they should in the common room. They certainly wouldn’t be able to walk through the portrait hole without anyone noticing them.  
  
“Ron and I will go ahead, Harry. Maybe we’ll see you in the common room?” She looked between them and smirked, “Or maybe not?” She smiled at them both and, with Ron taking Hermione’s heavy shoulder bag, and Hermione cradling the bundled up potion vials, they left the Room of Requirement.  
  
As soon as the door shut behind them Draco was moving. He placed the fruit back down onto the nearly empty platter and with confidence he repositioned himself above Harry. With his legs on either side of Harry’s thighs and his hands buried deep in the nest of his hair. Harry’s hands landed on his hips, gentle and timid, as though Draco was no more than the memory of a memory, as though he would disappear the moment Harry touched him.  
  
“Darling.” Draco murmured, Harry’s eyes drifted closed and his heart soared. Draco allowed him the moment of peace, he dug his fingers into Harry’s scalp and slowly began to massage the back of his head. Draco stared at him from his perch on Harry’s knee, it was easy now to compare the Harry he had been looking at everyday to the Harry he finally remembered. He was slimmer, and there were dark circles under his eyes, half hidden by the frames of his glasses. Draco knew how sombre Harry had been, the face that he had found himself looking at in classes was nothing more than a shell of the Harry that he had been in September. Draco hoped that the return of his memories, the confirmation that he was well, would make Harry right again.  
  
“I missed that.” Harry said quietly with his eyes still closed, still basking in Draco’s presence. His voice was so low that even though Draco was close he almost didn’t hear it, “I missed you.” Harry confessed and finally opened his eyes to look into Draco’s.  
  
“I know.” Draco repeated, “I’m okay. You found me. I’m here.” He leaned forward, and for the first time since his memories had returned, his lips landed on Harry’s skin. Draco kissed Harry’s forehead and allowed his lips to rest there, savouring the moment for as long as Harry would allow.  
  
“I didn’t do much. You made the potion.” Harry didn’t want to take credit for this.  
  
“You reminded me of who I was. You didn’t give up on me.”  
  
“Never.” Harry said, “We promised each other.” They smiled at each other knowingly, promises held a power between them that Harry didn’t think anyone else would understand. Draco's hands drifted to Harry’s face, his hands cupped Harry’s cheeks and his fingers stroked against the slight stubble that was starting to crop up on his jaw. He leaned down and without a single ounce of hesitation he pressed his mouth to Harry’s.  
  
The kiss they had shared before the potion had been chaste and hesitant, Harry hadn't wanted to push for more than Draco had been willing to give, and Draco hadn't wanted to show how deeply he had started to fall. This kiss held no such motives. Draco used his hands to tilt Harry's head to just the right angle, and encouraged Harry's mouth to open with the slight trace of his tongue along his bottom lip. It felt right, so very right, to be this close to Harry, to be draped over his body, to be arching up against his chest and pressing down into his lap. Draco tried not to shiver as Harry's hands tightened on his waist, he could feel those strong fingers digging into the flesh of his sides as Harry anchored Draco firmly against his body. Draco remembered this feeling so vividly, the feeling of being completely undone at the hands of Harry Potter, and he loved it, had always loved it, will always love it. His hips began to move almost against his wishes and his body began to rock in a slow but steady rhythm.  
  
"Draco." Harry panted against his mouth. Draco only hummed in response, unwilling to part for any longer than it took to draw a breath. Harry lost himself again for a few seconds as Draco's tongue drew him back into the embrace. Surprisingly it was the feeling of Draco's belt buckle pressing into his stomach that had Harry pulling away from that mouth that he so loved.  
  
"Draco. Hold on." Harry said.  
  
"I don't want to." He whined.  
  
"Darling." Harry tried again. He loved the feeling of the word as it rolled off his tongue. The start of 'Darling' had been a sarcastic comment, nothing more than a throwaway pet name that Harry had said to goad Draco. It had turned into something sweet and genuine, a reminder that they loved each other for much more than the sex, and they called upon the pet name when they needed it the most.  
  
Harry's hands slid up Draco's sides, gliding over the material of his jumper gently, barely even bunching the material up under his palms. He followed the line of Draco's body, up his waist, over his shoulders, down his arms, to gently enclose around Draco's wrists, which had yet to move from his face.  
  
"Darling." Harry repeated as he gently leaned away from Draco's mouth and guided his hands away from his face.  
  
Draco froze. The large hands wrapped so completely around his wrists were a stark reminder of the choices he had made while under the effects of the Forgetfulness Potion. He stared down at his left arm with baited breath as Harry’s fingers began to stroke the skin on the underside of his wrist. All it would take was Harry running his hands up his arms and pushing the sleeves of his jumper up to uncover his secret. To discover the source of his shame.  
  
“I love you, and I’ve missed you so much. But we should give you a day or two to recover. Hermione said the potion might have some after effects that we don’t know about.”  
  
“Yes, yes of course.” Draco pulled his arms out of Harry’s grip without argument. He pushed himself off of Harry’s lap quickly, going dizzy with how fast he had climbed to his feet. He impatiently tugged his sleeves down to cover his wrists and for once he lamented his obsession with tailored clothing. He would like nothing more than to be wearing one of Harry’s jumpers at this moment so he could pull the sleeves down over his hands and hide himself in the extra material. Harry wasn’t much bigger than him, but Draco knew (from extensive Quidditch experience) that Harry’s reach was longer than his own. He left Harry sitting on the sofa, cold from the sudden loss of body heat and a little bewildered at the sudden change in tone.  
  
“I have the invisibility cloak with me. Would you like to come up to Gryffindor?” Draco paused halfway through packing up his school bag, shoving away the notes that he and Hermione had worked from.  
  
“No, I don’t think that’s such a good idea.” Draco didn’t mean for it to come out as coldly as it had. Harry stood up slowly and stuffed his hands in his pocket.  
  
“Okay.” Harry sounded dejected and confused at how quickly Draco’s personality had changed, and Draco wanted nothing more than to step back into his embrace and follow him up to Gryffindor so that they could fall asleep side by side for the first time in months.  
  
“My dorm mates will want to know where I’ve been, and we don’t want to look suspicious right now, we still don’t know who attacked me in the first place.”  
  
“Oh, yeah, I understand.” Harry ruffled a hand through his hair anxiously and watched Draco pull his cloak on and throw his heavy bag over one shoulder.  
  
“We’ll talk more tomorrow evening, yes?” Draco confirmed.  
  
“Yeah.” Harry said on the tail end of a sad sigh that Draco wished he could ignore.  
  
“Tomorrow, Darling.” Draco promised, and he leaned in for one more soft kiss in the hopes that Harry would be soothed by the action. He didn’t want Harry to worry, he had been worrying enough for the both of them over the past few months and he deserved at least a couple of days worry free before they moved onto their next problem. He just hoped that Harry would be able to look him in the eye when he decided that Draco wasn’t good enough for him anymore.


	36. Chapter 36

The moment Harry’s foot landed on the flagstone floor at the base of the gargoyle statue he broke out into a run. He had kept his calm throughout the entire meeting with Dumbledore, they had discussed Slughorn’s memory, as fragmented and false as it was, and Harry had learnt about Horcruxes, the source of Voldemort’s perceived immortality. Horcruxes. Harry ran straight down to the library, there was still an hour before Madam Pince would start to kick everyone out and he had no doubt Hermione would have snagged a table for herself somewhere between the tall stacks of books.   
  
He was correct. She was buried so deeply into a book that it took Harry physically throwing himself into the chair opposite her for her to look up. She blinked at him in surprise and put the book down, placing her finger carefully on the text to keep her place.  
  
“Harry?” She asked as he tried to regain his breath. He hadn’t exactly kept up with his fitness since Draco had disappeared and the trek from Dumbledore’s office on the seventh floor, to the Library on the third was quite a distance, “I thought you were meeting with Dumbledore this evening?” She glanced around them surreptitiously just in case anyone was sitting close enough to hear them. She needn’t have bothered, the only others in the Library at that time on a Wednesday evening were a study group of Ravenclaws sitting close to the entrance.  
  
“I know what Voldemort wanted Draco for.” Harry sat on the edge of his chair so he could lean far over the table to whisper to her.  
  
“What?” She asked, and the conversation was important enough for her to remove her finger from the page and shuffle the book away to one side.  
  
“Horcruxes.” Harry said. He could see Hermione’s mind working as she mentally sorted through the immense amount of knowledge she had gained during her time in the wizarding world, “It’s dark, about as dark as magic can possibly get.” Harry quickly explained before she could agonise over not knowing about them, “Are you finished here? I wouldn’t mind going to find Ron so I don’t have to say it twice.”  
  
“Erm,” She looked down at the parchment she had been writing on and back to the book she had been using, “Yes, I can come back to this tomorrow.”  
  
“Sorry,” Harry said as she began to sort through her things and pack away her station, “I didn’t mean to interrupt, I just thought it was really important.”  
  
“No, it’s okay. Come on.” It was her turn then, to grab him by the sleeve and drag him out of the Library and up the closest flight of stairs. Hermione let go of him around the fourth floor and they practically power walked towards the Gryffindor common room, using as many shortcuts as they could to get there as fast as possible.  
  
“What are Horcruxes?” She asked through panted breath.  
  
“Objects that contain a part of someone’s soul.” Harry explained quickly as he strode ahead and tried to make sure that Hermione was keeping up without too much of an issue. Since his legs were far longer than hers.  
  
“Voldemort’s soul?” She asked and she took a hold of his sleeve to slow him down slightly.  
  
“There you guys are!” Harry looked up to see Ron heading down the corridor towards them, “Neville just came into the common room and said he saw you running like a madman down the Sixth floor corridor. I figured you’d gone to find Hermione for something.”  
  
“Harry’s had a breakthrough!” Hermione exclaimed.  
  
“With the-” Ron dropped his voice and looked around them, the corridor was empty and dark, “Malfoy thing.”  
  
“With the everything thing.” Harry replied, “Come on, let's go to the Room of Requirement. It's closer than the common room.”  
  
“And more private.” Hermione reminded him.  
  
It only took them a few more minutes to get to the blank space of the wall opposite the horrible tapestry that Harry tried not to even look at these days. Harry asked it for their usual room, the one with the overlapping rugs, the overstuffed sofas and armchairs, and the large roaring fireplace. And once they entered they situated themselves in front of the fire, grateful for the heat after walking through the cold castle.  
  
“Horcruxes?” Hermione asked.  
  
“Objects that contain a part of someone’s soul.” Harry repeated for Ron's benefit, “Dark, dark magic.”  
  
“How?” Ron asked.  
  
“You have to knowingly commit murder, it’s such a dark act that the soul is left fragmented, and that fragment is placed into an object.” Harry tried to be as concise as possible since the how wasn’t the important part.  
  
“And You-Know-Who did it?” Ron asked.  
  
“More than once.” Harry said, “And we’ve come across one before.” At their exchanged blank looks he continued, “Tom Riddle's Diary!”  
  
“That was a Horcrux? It was part of Voldemort’s soul? I thought it was just a memory of him that he had charmed into the book.” Harry shook his head in response to Hermione’s multiple questions.  
  
“So what does this have to do with Malfoy?” Hermione looked between them as they spoke, trying to figure out the connection that Harry had made.  
  
“Lucius Malfoy gave the diary to Ginny, but if Voldemort doesn’t know that it’s been destroyed-”  
  
“Then he’ll think it’s in Malfoy Manor!” Hermione finished for him, “He needed Draco to give him access to the Manor!” Harry saw that spark in her eye that she only seemed to get when she was working out a particularly difficult riddle. Harry had seen that look a few times throughout their years, starting with the potions riddle that Snape had left to protect the Philosopher's Stone, and most recently when she was trying to calculate exactly how many snowdrops their new memory potion needed.  
  
“But that doesn’t explain why he allowed Malfoy to come back to Hogwarts.” Ron pointed out.  
  
“I think there’s one here too. Draco said he was tasked with looking for something in the castle.”  
  
“Would You-Know-Who be stupid enough to hide something in Hogwarts though?” Ron leaned back against the sofa and folded his arms across his chest, as though he had beaten Harry’s logic.  
  
“I think so, Hogwarts was his first home, he always wanted to come back here, he always viewed it as a sanctuary.”  
  
“So he needed Draco for two Horcruxes? The Diary he doesn’t know was destroyed and the hidden item?”  
  
“And-” Harry began to say.  
  
“There’s more?” Ron interrupted in horror.  
  
“Draco is the sole heir of the Lestrange estate. Voldemort desperately wants something from the Lestrange vault and Draco said it was a golden cup with a badger on it.”  
  
“You think he gave something to Bellatrix and she put it in the vault?” Hermione asked with a frown.  
  
“Why not? He gave something to Malfoy Senior.” Harry shrugged, “So that’s three things that he needed Draco for, the Diary, the cup, and whatever’s in Hogwarts. No wonder Voldemort didn’t kill him, if he’s trying to collect up all the parts of his soul he really does need Draco.”  
  
“How many times did he do it?” Ron asked.  
  
“Dumbledore isn’t sure, he needs the memory from Slughorn but he isn’t giving it up without a fight. He wanted me to charm him,” Harry used air quotes to accompany his look of distaste, “But I’ve been so focussed on Draco that I haven’t been to any of the Slug Club meetings.”  
  
“Well that’s three there, Diary, Cup, Hogwarts.” Hermione ticked off on her fingers and repeated the short list.  
  
“The Gaunt ring that fucked up Dumbledore's hand.” Harry added helpfully and Hermione added another finger to the three she was already holding up, “And Dumbledore said he’s following a lead to find another but he wouldn’t tell me what it was. Based on the memories he’s been showing me I think it’s a locket that belonged to Slytherin, and the cup I think was Hufflepuffs. Voldemort likes trophies and priceless objects.”  
  
“So that’s at least five he’s made.”  
  
“Seven maybe?” Ron suggested, “It’s a powerful number.” And then he shrugged as Hermione looked at him in surprise, “Everyone knows seven is a powerful number, no need to look so shocked.”  
  
“Yes, of course, I’m sorry.”  
  
“I know things.” Ron defended.   
  
“I know you do, Ron.” Hermione smiled and the redhead flushed until his cheeks were as red as his hair, Harry just rolled his eyes at them both.  
  
“Let’s say seven then.” Hermione agreed with Ron when she finally looked away from him, “And we know of five of them, and two of those five are destroyed.” She looked down at the final three fingers that she was still holding up.  
  
"And there's one still inside Voldemort's body." Harry added, and Hermione nodded and put another finger down.

“Does Dumbledore know that Draco could have access to two more?”  
  
“Not yet, I want to see if I can convince Draco to come and talk to Dumbledore with me. He’ll know far more than me and might be able to answer some of Dumbledore’s questions.”  
  
“Good luck mate. He hardly seems to want to see you these days, never mind Dumbledore. You’d have thought he’d be a little bit grateful considering we all helped him get his memories back.”  
  
“Ron!” Hermione kicked him in the shin, “He’s adjusting! It’s perfectly acceptable for him to be a little out of his depth, and like we said on Saturday, there’s still someone on Hogwarts grounds who means him harm so he needs to be wary.”   
  
Harry nodded along with Hermione but he also knew that Ron had a point. He had said goodbye to Draco on Saturday night and sent him off to Slytherin with a goodbye kiss and his invisibility cloak. Harry had tried to talk to him through the journal on Sunday but he hadn’t received anything other than short two word answers before Draco had gone silent. Then on Monday he had pulled Draco to one side as they both walked through an empty corridor after classes and had tried to set up a time for them to meet. Draco had given him a swift kiss to the corner of his lips and had skirted around him, using the excuse that Pansy was waiting for him so he couldn’t stop for a chat. The fact was, Draco had been more willing to meet with him before he had even got his memories back, and this was the Draco who was supposed to love him. He didn’t really know what had gone wrong between them, but he hoped that Draco would let him close enough for them to fix it.  
  
x  
  
On Thursday evening, after dinner, Harry bade goodbye to Ron and Hermione and followed the small footprints on the Marauder's Map to the far end of the Library. The map confirmed that there weren't many people hanging around, Harry supposed the Christmas break was right around the corner and people were too absorbed in the spirit of Christmas to ruin it by studying. The lack of students meant that Harry didn’t need to hesitate to walk down the central aisle and turn down the row to where he knew Draco would be. At the sound of footsteps Draco looked up with a cutting glare with all intention of scaring off whoever dared to disturb him, but his eyes landed on Harry and his expression softened.  
  
“Harry.” He murmured with a small smile. Harry felt like he was pushing his luck when he leaned down to place a kiss to Draco’s temple, but Draco lifted his face to accept it happily. He even went as far as to swivel sideways on his chair and lift his chin in anticipation, the universal symbol for kiss me. So Harry did, gladly, he skimmed his palm against Draco’s cheek as he pressed their lips together in a hesitant kiss. He had half been expecting Draco to run away from him again.  
  
“Can I ask you something,” Harry started with, and he pulled out the chair next to Draco’s so that he wasn’t towering over him. Draco tensed under his gaze and he pulled both of his hands under the desk to rest on top of his lap, “What does Voldemort want you to find?”   
  
“It’s a tiara.” Draco said honestly, and given the way he relaxed the moment he had been asked Harry knew that wasn’t quite what he had been expecting, “He said it’s-”  
  
“Priceless?” Harry asked, and Draco nodded.  
  
“I don’t know why though, he just said it was priceless and extremely important to him.”  
  
“Did it belong to anyone?”  
  
“I don’t-”  
  
“A founder maybe?” Harry suggested, Slytherin’s locket, Hufflepuff’s cup, it wouldn’t be a long shot to imagine that Voldemort would have been able to get hold of something from the other two founders.  
  
“I’m not sure. Why?”  
  
“He collected...Trophies. And he’s used them to make himself immortal, effectively. The cup he wants from the Lestrange Vaults, the diary your Father gave to Ginny in our second year.”  
  
“That’s why he wanted entry to the Manor?” Draco asked, he had put the pieces together as fast as Harry had expected him to, “That’s why he needed me.” Draco stared down at the closed book in front of him sadly, “The things he said to me. He-he made me feel...important.” Draco stammered.  
  
“Draco?” Harry reached out to him but Draco jerked himself back.   
  
“Don’t-” When Draco looked back up at him Harry was surprised to see the hazy film of tears covering his eyes, he had seen Draco cry once or twice, but never like this, never out of the cover of darkness, never out from behind closed doors or curtains which had been silenced and warded against anyone entering, “Don’t hate me Harry, please. I thought...I thought he would kill me. I-I had to.” Draco seemed to say everything at once, he stammered and tripped over his words as he desperately tried to prevent the tears from falling.  
  
“Draco?” Harry asked, surprised and worried at the sudden turn of events. He had expected Draco to be standoffish, but ultimately he knew that Draco would tell him the truth of his task. But he never expected this. The nervousness. The fear. The guilt.  
  
“Don’t hate me.” Draco said again, and then he stood up with all the intention of fleeing from this conversation, but then Harry was there, stopping him with a hand on his forearm. His left forearm. Draco stared at the large, strong hand wrapped around his arm. He knew those hands, knew what they could do to his body, knew what power they held. He was frozen in place. Standing between the pushed out chair behind him, the table in front of him and Harry sitting next to him, with one of his wrists held firmly in his grip.   
  
Ever since his memories had returned he had felt alone in his own head, he had become so accustomed to having Harry’s little emotions drifting through his conscious that he almost had to look across the room to make sure he was still there. But he had been grateful in a way. If Harry had been in his head then he would have been in Harry’s, he had felt a few moments of joy after his memories had returned but since then all he had felt was shame. Shame overlapping shame, followed by a hearty amount of guilt, and another unhealthy dose of well deserved shame.  
  
“Please, Harry.” Draco couldn’t take his eyes away from the firm hand wrapped around his arm and Harry quickly cottoned on, his eyes followed Draco’s gaze down, “Please. Don’t hate me.” Draco whispered the words. He had always thought he was above begging for something, but when he was faced with a lonely life, where he could imagine himself imprisoned and unloved versus a life with Harry, he found that he wasn’t above doing anything to keep Harry by his side. The words hung heavy in the air between them as Harry tried to understand.   
  
Everything clicked at the same time. The clenching of his left hand. His unwillingness to spend much time around Harry. His reluctance to speak of the task he had been set. Harry dropped Draco’s arm as though he had been burned and he stared at Draco in horror as the realisation set in. He daren’t ask. He daren’t confirm. Because he  _ didn’t _ want to know. But he did know. He knew exactly what Draco had been talking about.  
  
“I-I need to go.” Draco began to walk backwards away from Harry, while all Harry could do was stare at the space between them where Draco’s arm had been, “I’ll be back for my things later. I’m sorry.” Harry turned away from him, to instead look at the table covered in closed and open books. He didn’t see Draco turning the corner and disappearing from view. He felt numb from the inside out, so he continued to sit in that exact same spot unmoving and unfocused. He thought about Draco. His Draco. His lovely lovely Draco. What had he done? What had he been made to do? What had he given to keep himself alive?  
  
“Harry?” It was Hermione, she was turning onto the row where he was sitting and looking down at him, confused. Harry didn’t turn to look at her, he was surrounded by books for subjects he didn’t take, and parchments full of handwriting that was too elegant to be his, and Draco’s abandoned Slytherin robe hanging on the back of the chair next to him, “Is everything okay? I just saw Draco on his way down to Slytherin, he told me where you were.”  
  
“Draco-” Harry began, and then he had to stop and swallow heavily around the lump in his throat before trying once again to make the words fall from his lips.  
  
“Draco has the Dark Mark.”  
  
Harry finally looked up from the cover of the book that he had been staring at and met Hermione’s wide, horrified eyes, “What do I do Hermione?”


	37. Chapter 37

Harry and Hermione sat side by side at the head of Harry’s bed, with pillows stuffed behind their backs and Harry’s duvet flung over their legs, even in the usually warm and homely Gryffindor tower the cold December air seemed to seep in. Harry had half a tray of warm mince pies resting on his knees, and his shirt held the leftover crumbs of the other half that he had already consumed. Hermione had managed to eat one before Harry claimed the rest for himself. Dobby had made them fresh and had been more than happy to deliver them right to Harry’s bedside. Hermione had tutted at that, and when she had tried to talk to Harry about using House-Elves for his own gain he defended himself by saying “ _ Dobby offered, Hermione. _ ” Which he had.  
  
Ron had sat this one out. When he had seen Hermione guiding an expressionless Harry through the common room and up to the boys dorm he had made to stand up to join them. More than happy to throw in the towel on the game that Seamus had produced from his trunk with too much enthusiasm. It turned out that he had added a magical element to Muggle Battleship where the boats actually blew up when they were eliminated from the board. Ron had been losing, his side of the board was covered in small black scorch marks and he only had one tiny boat left. Hermione had waved at him to sit back down, and Ron was pretty sure it didn’t take a genius to figure out that Harry’s problems were relationship based. Ron figured out of the two of them Hermione would be the best one to give advice in that area, so he had sat back down and accepted his defeat as Seamus called out the last square that would explode Ron’s final boat.  
  
“I feel like we’ve been in this position before.” Hermione pointed out when Harry started in on his sixth mince pie. And they had. Last time Draco had fled from the Library and from Harry, they had ended up in Harry’s bed, with Harry eating almost an entire birthday cake to distract himself from the conflicting thoughts and emotions that he hadn’t quite been able to process. Back then it had been about Draco being his Soulmate, Harry hadn’t known whether to trust that their relationship was based on something real, or whether they had been forced together with no choice in the matter.  
  
“Draco left that time too.” Harry said sadly into his next pie.  
  
“We both know that Draco doesn’t handle rejection very well. He’d rather be the one doing the dumping than being the one getting dumped.”  
  
“Do you think he’s dumped me?” Harry asked sadly.  
  
“No, I just think he’s scared. Especially scared of your reaction.” She managed to sneak her hand onto the tray to steal another small pastry as Harry looked at her in contemplation.  
  
“He asked me not to hate him.” Harry confessed.  
  
“Do you hate him?” Hermione asked.  
  
“No,” He answered after a couple of seconds of staring at her blankly, “But I hate the mark.”  
  
“He didn’t understand what he was doing.” She said since she felt like Harry needed reminding of that more than anything.  
  
“I know.” Harry said with a frown as he looked down at the ornate silver tray that Dobby had presented the mince pies on.  
  
“Do you blame him?” Hermione nibbled at the scalloped edge of the pastry as she watched him try to formulate a response.  
  
“No.” Harry eventually replied, “I blame Voldemort, and maybe I blame the way Draco used to be. A little.” Hermione stayed silent, she watched as he opened his mouth to speak and explain himself before closing his mouth again and taking another bite of the tart in his hand, doing anything he could to give himself a few extra minutes to think about what he wanted to say, “All he wanted was to be important, he wanted it so desperately.” Harry finally said.  
  
“And Voldemort played right into that?”   
  
“Voldemort told him he was important and he lapped it up, because he didn’t know any different. All Voldemort would need to do is spin some line about living up to his Father’s potential and Draco would have fallen right into his hands.”  
  
“You think so?” Hermione asked.  
  
“It’s all Draco ever wanted before fifth year. If I hadn’t offered him another option I think his life would have led him down the same path as his Father.”  
  
“Is that his fault though?”  
  
“No, that’s just life I think.” Harry put the half eaten mince pie back on the tray and he rubbed the back of his hand over his mouth to get rid of any crumbs that were clinging to his chin, “I don’t blame him Hermione. Even with his memories he wouldn’t have been in a position to refuse Voldemort. And I don’t hate him either, I still love him, I just hate the thought of that thing being on his arm and I hate that Voldemort is connected to him. After everything Draco went through last year to get away from that life and it’s all been for nothing because he’s ended up there anyway. I just hate it.”  
  
“Have you told him any of this?”  
  
“No.” He said again.  
  
“Maybe you should try to speak to him?”  
  
“I don’t think I can just yet. I just need a day or two, to-I don’t know, come to terms with it?”  
  
“I think that’s reasonable, the mark is everything you stand against so I understand that you would need a little time. But, please write him a note or something. Don’t leave him hanging, he’ll be broken up about this as it is, don’t make him think he’s losing you as well.”  
  
“Yeah. Yeah, I will.”  
  
X  
  
Draco didn’t recognise the owl that swooped down from the charmed sky at breakfast the next morning. So much so that he shooed the bird away from him when it landed next to his goblet, it snapped at his fingers in response and hopped even closer. Draco shielded the bacon on his plate, having gotten used to Hedwig and her food stealing abilities, and he reached for the small rolled up note attached to the Owl's leg.  
  
_ D  
_ _ I could never hate you.  
_ _ Give me a couple of days to get used to it.  
_ _ Always yours  
_ _ H  
  
_ Draco quickly rolled the note back up and hid it inside the palm of his hand. What he actually wanted to do was sob in relief because Harry was reaching out to him, telling him not to worry that eventually they would be okay. He kept the emotion buried and tried not to allow a smile to spread across his face from the small but concise note that said everything it needed to. He could understand Harry needing a few days and he wouldn’t push him to talk until he was ready.  
  
“Where have you been lately?” Pansy asked as she sat down on the bench next to him and stole a bit of bacon from his plate, the bacon that he had been so carefully guarding from the Owl that had taken flight the moment she had settled next to him, “I feel like I haven’t seen you around in days.”  
  
“Just studying.” The truth was, Draco had found it hard to be around Pansy and Blaise, he was having to hide so much of himself from them. He hadn’t expected it to be this hard, it never had been before, but now he supposed he had gotten used to a different way of living, of not having to hide every little part of himself from the world, because the Gryffindors never expected anyone to be anything but themselves. Then there was the difficulty of being around those who had distanced themselves from him last year, Crabbe, Goyle, Nott, (to name a few) he didn’t want to spend any of his time with them at all. Losing his Slytherin mask around Pansy was one thing, losing it around one of the other students could only lead to danger.   
  
“Oh, yes of course, I forget you have to catch up on last year's material as well. What a lark that is.” Pansy continued their conversation, having not noticed that he had mentally drifted away from the present.  
  
“Indeed.” Draco agreed absentmindedly. He couldn’t tell her that all of his memories had returned without having to answer some very difficult questions, and if she thought he was studying in the Library then the likelihood that she would ever come searching for him was slim to none.  
  
“Anyway, are you going back to the Manor for Christmas? I suspect your presence will be expected.” She looked at him meaningfully and Draco understood what she had wanted to say.  
  
“Yes, I do believe I am expected at home for the holidays. What about you?” He hadn’t lied to her per se, his presence was expected, but that didn’t mean he would be going home. Before he had taken the antidote and regained his memories Harry had invited him back to Grimmauld Place, but it hadn’t been mentioned since. Draco knew that was probably because he had been avoiding Harry for three days and then Harry had found out about the Mark and all hell had broken loose between them. But he was sure the offer was still standing.  
  
Draco knew his Mother was there, and he longed to see her after everything he had been through in the last few months. He was sure she would be disappointed in him, he could imagine the look on her face already, would she be disappointed? Or just resigned? She had been resigned to Draco’s fate once before, when he had been determined to follow in his Father's footsteps no matter the consequences. He was least looking forward to his Mother discovering the mark, he couldn’t bear to disappoint her. But he knew that he had to tell her, she would be able to guide him on the best way to go about it. He, like most every pureblood, knew that there was no way to remove it. His Father had looked into it extensively when Draco had been a child, wanting to rebuild the family’s reputation after the first fall of the Dark Lord. But it had been impossible, and his Father had been forced to deny all claims of his association with the Dark Lord all while hiding the permanent tattoo on his arm.  
  
“-want me to...Draco? Are you even listening to me?” He hadn’t been.  
  
“I’m sorry Pansy, what were you saying?”   
  
“My Father has already sent a letter requesting that I return home. I think he is expecting to spend a lot of time at Malfoy Manor so I’m sure I’ll see you there at some point.”  
  
“No!” Draco exclaimed and against his will his hand shot out to grab hers as she reached across him for the butter dish.  
  
“Draco?” She looked at him in surprise, as did the few students who were sitting around them. He dropped her wrist sheepishly and waited until the other students were preoccupied once again before he tried to explain herself. It took a good minute, and all the while Pansy was glaring at him and rubbing her wrist dramatically.  
  
“You can’t visit the Manor Pansy,” He leaned in close and murmured, “It’s not safe, you know that.”  
  
“He’s hardly going to want anything to do with me. I’m sure I’ll be dismissed after a minute or two.”  
  
“ _ Pansy.”  _ Draco hissed, “How can you be so...so flippant?!”  
  
“Do not pander to me Draco. I am well aware of the situation.” Her usually airy attitude hardened in an instant, “I have about as much choice as you do.” She glared at him, and Draco remembered why they were friends in the first place. Pansy was a force to be reckoned with when she wanted to be.  
  
“I’m not going home.” Draco looked up at their surroundings, the Great Hall had been full for breakfast but now students were slowly starting to leave as the start of lessons approached. The Professors table was almost completely empty, barring Professor Sinistra the Astronomy Professor and Professor Sprout, who’s morning classes had been cancelled due to the build up of snow and icy paths around the greenhouses.  
  
“This isn’t the place for this conversation.”  
  
“Is it something that’s going to get you killed?” She asked seriously in a low whisper.  
  
“It’s certainly not going to put me in anyone's good graces.” He didn’t need to explain who he meant by anyone.  
  
“Then it’s better I don’t know.” Draco knew she was right, she was better off not knowing. He wished he could break the spell on both her and Blaise just so that he could have his best friends back. It was exhausting pretending to be his past self, a person that had thoughts and feelings that were so different from his new outlook on life.  
  
“Okay.” Draco said plainly. Then he stood up and hid Harry’s almost forgotten note in his trouser pocket as he shouldered his bag and walked away from Pansy and his barely touched breakfast. He would be able to explain everything to her at some point, but now wasn’t the right time and he refused to put her in any more danger. 


	38. Chapter 38

Harry didn’t look up when he heard footsteps on the staircase leading up to the boys dorm. He didn’t look up when the door opened and someone stepped into the room. He didn’t look up when someone crossed the room, walking across the room with purpose. He did however look up when something heavy was deposited onto his legs. A number of heavy things actually.  
  
“Er...Hermione?” He asked as he shifted under the rocks that she had dropped on him, he leaned over to the side to place the Half-Blood Prince Potions book on the side table, “Mind explaining?”  
  
“Emerald,” She pointed to a particularly vivid green one that had landed somewhere near his left knee, “Hematite, Albite, Dalotite and Pyrite.” She pointed to each of them in turn, as though Harry was supposed to know exactly what she was talking about.  
  
“Right...Erm, pretty rocks?” Harry tried for. Based on her scathing glare he figured that hadn’t quite been what she had wanted to hear.  
  
“Not rocks Harry. Gemstones and crystals.”  
  
“Okay?”  
  
“All of which are used to facilitate the formation and recollection of memory.” Harry picked up the smallest black crystal, Hematite, he tossed it up in the air and caught it in one hand as Hermione spoke, then brought it close to his face so that he could look closely at the formation of it.  
  
“I’ve done some research and I believe we can cast Verum Memoria Maxima to increase the effect of the Memory counter spell. Since the original False Memory spell had such a wide range I thought anything to help maximise its effect would be advantageous.”  
  
“What’s your plan?”   
  
“We create a circle with the crystals and use a tethering charm so there is one current of magic running through all of them, then whoever is casting the counter spell can stand in the centre and harness that energy. I think it will work, there’s been a number of rituals where people have harnessed the latent energy from crystals to help them boost the power of their spell. Granted, it hasn’t quite been done at this scale before.” She looked down at the crystals that Harry was gathering back up into a neat pile next to his hip and bit her bottom lip in worry, “But I really do think it’ll work.” She sounded like she was almost trying to convince herself as well.  
  
“I believe in you Hermione.” Harry shrugged off her misplaced worry, he had absolute faith in her abilities after all.  
  
“Another thing.” She said, “I think you should cast the spell.”  
  
“But you’ve mastered it already. I don’t think-”  
  
“It’s not mastery we need, remember? The spell worked on Ron the very first time we tried it. It’s power that we need and we both know that you’re far more magically powerful than I am.”  
  
“I don’t know about that.” Harry raked a hand through his hair and looked off to the side as his cheeks reddened slightly. He had always seen Hermione as a much more accomplished Witch who was plenty powerful in her own right.  
  
“I do. And I think you should cast it with Draco.” Ah, and wasn’t that the kicker. It was Friday now, six days since Draco had regained his memory, three days since Harry had found out about the Dark Mark, and two days since Harry had sent him the short note, and they were still yet to speak to each other properly. They had seen each other in classes, passed each other in corridors, sent small strained smiles to each other across the Great Hall when no one was paying attention. But Harry had yet to approach him, and Draco was yet to get bored of waiting.  
  
“You still haven’t spoken?” Hermione asked once she recognised the pining expression on his face, “You know he’s waiting for you to approach him. You told him you needed a few days and he’s respecting that.”  
  
“I know.” Harry sighed deeply, wondering how once again the conversation turned to his slowly failing relationship.  
  
“Surely you’ve processed it by now. Draco has the dark mark and so what.” She crossed her arms across her chest and pursed her lips at him in disappointment.  
  
“Death Eaters have killed so many people.”  
  
“Yes, but  _ Draco  _ hasn’t.”  
  
“He’s linked to Voldemort now, and it’s not like there’s a way to remove it.”  
  
“Yes. But so are you Harry.” She leaned forward, across the bed that he had yet to stand up from and poked him in the centre of his scar, “You’re more linked to Voldemort than anyone else.”  
  
“But that wasn’t my choice.” Harry pushed her hand away and glared at her.  
  
“Okay, so let’s say that Draco was put before Voldemort with all of his memories intact and offered a choice between the Dark Mark or Death...Would you rather he chose death?”  
  
“I would.” He snapped defensively.  
  
“Would you want  _ Draco  _ to die or survive?” She asked heatedly and loomed over him, as though daring him to say the wrong thing.  
  
“Survive okay! I’d want him to survive!” He pushed himself up off the bed and turned his back to her so he could pull himself together and stop himself from losing his temper. Especially when everything she was saying was only to make him realise the absolute truth, a truth he already knew but was too scared to admit to himself.  
  
“Now imagine Draco, no memories, no family, no friendly face, confused and disorientated.” Harry rubbed his eyes as a confused and scared Draco popped up in his mind's eye, he could imagine it so well that he almost had to remind himself that he hadn’t actually been there to see Draco in that state, “He’s just been told his Father’s dead and his Mother’s a traitor. He’s been offered a chance to be important and useful-”  
  
“I get it.”  
  
“He’s desperate to find something that connects the blank space of his memory, and the last thing he knows is that the Malfoy family were loyal-” Hermione continued to rant at him.  
  
“I know.” Harry sighed sadly, “Hermione. I know.” She opened her mouth to begin her tirade once again but the sad expression on Harry’s face was enough to stop her in her tracks.  
  
“He’s  _ alive _ Harry. How many times did we sit together thinking that he was dead.” Harry had forgotten, in his own downward spiral of sorrow and guilt that he wasn’t the only one who had almost lost Draco, “He’s  _ here,  _ he’s  _ alive.  _ Dark Mark or no Dark Mark, Draco survived.” Hermione walked around the bed so that she could step close to him and place her hands on his forearms which were crossed tightly across his chest.  
  
“I understand why you have reservations, I understand why you’re having trouble coming to terms with it, Death Eaters are everything that we stand against, they’ve caused death and destruction and to even be associated with them is a black mark on a person's name. But Harry, this is  _ Draco _ we’re talking about.” She shook his arms slightly as though she was imagining shaking some sense into him. Harry was looking sadly down at her as her words rang true. It was Draco. It would always be Draco. Mark or no Mark, Draco was his Soulmate. His everything.  
  
Harry uncrossed his arms, and Hermione’s hands fell to her side like lead weights. She had tears collecting in the corners of her eyes but Harry knew she was too proud to allow herself to wipe them away with anything other than an impatient swipe of a single finger.  
  
“Hermione,” Harry said as he placed his hands on her shoulders and drew her close, “You’re amazing and honestly I’m probably just a little bit in love with you.” He kissed her solidly in the middle of her forehead and pulled her into a hug.  
  
“Just talk to Draco.” She said into the material that covered his shoulder, “He’s been waiting for you.”  
  
“I know. I will.”  
  
“I think we should try to do the spell this weekend, or next weekend. Before everyone goes home for the Holidays. We need to make sure it’s worked and it’ll be easier to monitor any side effects if we’re surrounded by people.” She pulled away from Harry’s embrace and turned away from him slightly so that she could properly wipe at her eyes without making a big deal out of it.  
  
“I’ll see what Draco thinks.” Hermione smiled at him brightly and Harry really hadn’t been exaggerating, if he were straight he would probably just be a little bit in love with the absolute genius that was Hermione Granger. As it was, he really needed Ron to get his head out of his arse before she was snapped up by someone else.  
  
X  
  
“So I realised something earlier.” Draco looked up in surprise as Harry dropped down on the bench next to him. He had taken himself on a walk around the castle grounds, huddled up in his cloak, gloves, and hat, layered with heating charms which made the stray snowflakes in the air melt when they came into contact with him. It was on his walk, away from Slytherins who didn’t know who he was and certain Gryffindors who just knew a little too much, that he found the bench. If one could call it that. It was made out of stone and was chipped and cracked but still functional, nestled in the shadow of the Owlery at the base of the outcrop of rock that the structure had been built upon. He was facing the Great Lake and he watched as the shadows of creatures passed under the thick ice that had formed. Harry joining him had not been on his agenda, but he didn’t need to ask how the Gryffindor had found him, Draco knew all about the Marauders Map, and the unfair advantage it gave him.  
  
“Hm?” Draco answered. He was trying to keep himself together, trying to convince himself that a year with Harry had been enough. That a year with his Soulmate would be enough to keep him satisfied for the rest of his life.  
  
“Well, I say  _ I _ realised it,  _ Hermione _ helped me realise it. I feel like she might have beat it into me if I hadn’t.” Draco stayed silent, he didn’t even turn to look at Harry, preferring to look out over the lake with the most blank expression he could muster. He couldn’t meet Harry’s eyes, he didn’t want to know what he would find behind them.  
  
“I’m in love with you.” Draco’s bottom lip trembled against his will and he allowed himself a single slow blink, before finally turning to meet those wonderful green eyes that had always enchanted him, “Still. Always, in fact.” Harry added.  
  
Harry, who Draco had only just realised was sat at his left side, the closest to the Dark Mark, lifted his hand and placed it on Draco’s left forearm. Right over where his Mark lay. Draco knew he was imagining the burn of Harry’s touch, because there was no way that he would actually be able to feel anything through the various layers that lay between Harry’s hand and the skin of his arm.  
  
“You’re okay, with this.” He nodded down to the single point of contact of Harry’s gloved hand on his coat.  
  
“No,” Harry said honestly, “But I’ll get over it. You’re too important for me not to.”  
  
“What did Hermione say to you?” Draco asked incredulously, Harry was giving him more than he had ever expected.  
  
“She told me that the choice was simple. Alive with the Dark Mark, or dead.” Harry looked over at Draco and allowed his hand to fall from his forearm to his fingers, they had been clenched around the edge of the stone bench, as though it had been the only way to stop himself from reaching out to Harry. Harry gently peeled Draco’s left hand back from around the edge of the stone until he could press their palms together and interlock their fingers, “And I’m really, really, glad that you aren’t dead.” Even through the glove Draco’s hand felt familiar and comforting.  
  
“How romantic Potter. Not dead, check.” Harry just smiled fondly at him and shuffled closer so he could press his shoulder to Draco’s, as much as was possible through the thick coats and robes that they were both wearing.  
  
“I’m sorry.” Draco whispered, and his exhaled breath was released into the air as a thick cloud of condensation, “I wish-” He swallowed heavily and licked his dry lips, regretting it almost immediately as the cold bit at the sensitive skin even more harshly than it had before, “I wish I didn’t-That I hadn’t-”   
  
Draco was cut off but Harry’s gloved hand cupping his chin. Even through his gloves Draco knew that his fingers were strong and rough and he shivered from the memory of those hands on his skin. Harry smiled at him and moved their faces slowly closer together as though Draco would push him away if he moved any faster.  
  
“I love you.” Harry repeated and Draco would have responded but then there were a pair of lips upon his own. Harry’s lips were dry and chapped slightly from the cold air, but it was still one of the most wonderful kisses they had ever shared. Draco would rate it firmly within the top ten...Maybe even the top five. It was gentle and soft, but Draco could feel the promises that Harry was reaffirming, the ‘I love you’ promise, the ‘I’ll protect you’ promise, the ‘we’re in this together’, the ‘always’.  
  
“I love you too.” Draco breathed against Harry’s mouth when his lips were once again his own to control.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> God bless Hermione! Hahaha. But seriously, couldn't let them agonise over it forever could I? 
> 
> Thank you all for the lovely reviews. I don't answer every one of them, because most of the time I don't want to ruin the plot lol but I try to answer the comments that have questions about the fic, or if someone is confused about a plot point I try to make things clearer.
> 
> You're all wonderful for sticking with me this far, whether you comment or not, I love you all! :)


	39. Chapter 39

Harry took a long deep breath and looked across to Draco who was sat crossed legged in front of him. They were sitting inside the circle that Hermione had set up and were waiting for her permission to cast the first charm that would tether all of the crystals to their magical core. Ron, feeling like he’d be pretty useless just sitting there watching everything unfold, had decided that it would be better for him to be in the Gryffindor common room, so he could see what effect the spell was having. Dobby was on standby and if anything went wrong on Ron’s end he would call Dobby to stop them from performing the rest of the spell. Harry had kind of wished that Ron had been there, for moral support more than anything, but he had agreed that they needed someone to keep an eye on the general population. It was also why they had decided to perform the spell on Sunday evening, when the Gryffindor common room would be at its busiest.   
  
“This feels familiar.” Harry joked and he watched as the realisation passed over Draco’s face, ending in a small nervous smile.  
  
“Quite familiar.”  
  
“We haven’t done this in a while.” Harry reached out with both hands and Draco’s palms met his midway. It had been a long time since Harry had found himself sitting cross legged across from Draco, not since the start of their relationship, when they had been trying to discover why they had such a strong magical connection. It hadn’t always ended well, Harry remembered Draco being so overwhelmed by Harry’s magic that his Lumos had been as bright as a small sun in the corner of the Room of Requirement.  
  
“No. Let’s hope it goes better than the first time.” Draco commented, to which Harry just smiled and squeezed his hands just a little tighter.  
  
“Okay,” Hermione said after she had lapped around them for the third time, making sure that all the crystals were placed correctly, “Do the tethering spell.”  
  
“Esmeralda, Haematite, Purite, Albus, Dateisthai.” Draco chanted, “Concilio.”   
  
“Esmeralda, Haematite, Purite, Albus, Dateisthai. Concilio.” Harry joined in as Draco repeated himself. Hermione had explained that this spell relied more on the ancient magics than on the latin based magic that they were so used to. They would have to request the crystals’ help by chanting their names and asking them to connect together, until their request was accepted or denied. Harry had thought it was a little far fetched, he’d never imagined himself ever talking to a rock. But Hermione had nipped that in the bud by hitting him over the head with a book, “The magic within them is sentient, you need to request it’s help humbly and sincerely or it won’t help us.” She had said, so Harry had conceded to her knowledge.  
  
“Esmerelda, Haematite, Purite, Albus, Dateisthai. Concilio.” They repeated together, with their eyes locked onto each other in concentration. Harry was trying not to forget one of them and they had practised this a few times for that very reason.  
  
“Esmerelda, Haematite-” Harry heard Hermione gasp from somewhere to the right of him, but he daren’t look away from Draco. This didn’t feel like any type of magic that he had experienced before, but there was no doubt that it was magic. He could feel their shared magical core curling up to the surface slow and steady, like a wisp of smoke following the breath of wind.   
  
“-Dateisthai. Concilio.” Harry stared into Draco’s eyes and found himself getting lost within them. They were grey and stormy, with the ability to give a look that was sharp enough to cut steel or heated enough to make Harry’s blood boil in his veins.   
  
“Purite-”  
  
“It’s working.” Harry heard Hermione whispering to herself behind them. He glanced at the crystals out of the corner of his eye, there was a thin golden thread connecting them and each time they spoke the thread glowed brighter and brighter.  
  
“Concilio.” Harry and Draco finished speaking at the exact same time, Harry didn’t know why they had decided to stop, there had been no indication from Hermione, but it had felt right. It had felt like the magic they had tapped into had finally agreed to lend them its energy.  
  
“I can’t believe that worked.” Hermione said almost breathlessly. Harry didn’t dare say a word, and by the looks of things neither did Draco, but they did look freely around at the circle they had made. The golden thread connecting each rock seemed to have grown in size, to the point where the ‘thread’ was more like a rope, creating pin straight lines to each rock, encasing Harry and Draco within a golden pentagon.  
  
“The spell. Before the magic fails.” But it wouldn’t fail, Harry and Draco knew that much, they had been granted permission and that permission wouldn’t be revoked until they used it for what they had intended.  
  
Draco closed his eyes first, and Harry’s drifted closed barely a second afterwards. They had discussed this, Harry was far more capable of containing the full force of their magic, so Harry would cast the spell. He could feel the push of Draco’s half of their magic, and he could feel the fire of his magic roaring up inside him as Draco stoked the flames. It was addictive, it always had been, the feel of them both entwined together. Harry just wished he could feel Draco in his mind as well as his magic, he wished they could communicate.  
  
_ Draco. Draco. Draco.  _ Harry began to chant in his mind as their magics continued to build up inside him.  _ We were created to do this.  _ Harry found himself thinking, it had been what he had said to Draco when Voldemort had taken control of his mind in the Ministry of Magic.  _ I love you. I loved you then. I love you now. I’ll love you always.  
  
_ They were almost there, almost to the tipping point, almost to the crescendo. Harry could feel it rushing through his body, sending goosebumps to the surface of his skin and pins and needles to the ends of his nerves.  
  
_ I love you.  _ Harry heard it as clearly as he could hear his own thoughts, Draco’s voice cutting through the noise in his mind, crystal clear against the roaring backdrop.  
  
_ Draco?  _ Harry called out into the abyss of nothing that had been cutting them off from each other ever since Draco had disappeared.  
  
_ I’m here.  _ And Harry felt Draco’s calmness wash over him like a soothing balm against his frayed nerves. He felt Draco’s love settle over him like a heavy blanket and Draco’s relief was sharp and intense. All traces of his nerves were completely eradicated because he had Draco’s magic coursing through his body and Draco’s emotions flowing through his mind, right now he felt invincible.  
  
“Verum Memoria Maxima!” Harry exclaimed, he hadn’t even felt the need to reach for his wand. The power flowing through him couldn’t have been contained by a piece of wood and a feather, he knew that as surely as he knew his own name. He felt as though it would have split his wand apart if he had even tried.   
  
He felt the power leave his body all at once, carrying out the bidding of the spell. Flowing further and further from it’s single point of origin, covering the castle in a matter of seconds, the entire Hogwarts grounds another second later. He lost touch with it at that point, but somehow he just knew that it was spreading further, following the movement of the wind across Scotland, making its way into the homes of Witches and Wizards up and down the country, righting what was made wrong by whatever ritual Voldemort had done in the first place.  
  
“Did it work?” Hermione eventually asked from behind Draco and when Harry opened his eyes she was facing him with wide eyes and wild hair that she had obviously been pulling at during the course of their ritual. The golden lines that had surrounded them had disappeared and the crystals were once again no more than pretty rocks. Harry would make sure not to underestimate such things in the future.  
  
“Yes.” Draco answered for him and Harry looked away from Hermione and down into Draco’s eyes. The blonde was smiling at him, and Harry could feel the weight of Draco’s pleasure settling over his consciousness. He felt whole again.  
  
“I could feel it.” Harry wasn’t too surprised by that, it had been Draco’s magic as well after all.  
  
“Do you think it worked throughout the entire country?” Hermione asked again and she crossed over to the table that was set some way away from where they had settled on the floor. She had been taking notes throughout the whole process, and Harry could see her picking up a quill and adding something to the rather long piece of parchment.  
  
“I think so. It felt powerful enough.” Harry said. He was slowly unwinding his legs, wincing at the pins and needles that had decided to settle into both of his feet. In front of him Draco was doing the same thing, stretching out his legs in front of him, being mindful not to kick Harry in the shin (or bollocks). He leaned back on his arms, taking the pressure off his legs so he could properly flex his ankles and knees. Harry tried not to look at his long exposed neck, or the slight slither of skin between his shirt and trousers that had been bared to Harry’s gaze when Draco had shifted from his hands to his elbows. Then he arched, and stretched out the muscles that ran down the length of his back. Harry had to look away at that point, but he knew Draco had felt his interest because he looked over to Harry with a small smirk and raised eyebrow.   
  
“We haven’t heard from Ron, so that must mean that nothing major has gone wrong.”  
  
“What about the headache?” Harry asked, when they had performed the spell on Ron and Hermione they had both needed some form of pain relief in order to function directly after the spell had taken effect. Harry couldn’t believe that he hadn’t thought to ask about it before.  
  
“I hope the crystals will have helped to negate some of that, obviously they all have properties of memory reformation but a few of them also have healing properties.” She barely looked up from the parchment, “I imagine everyone will have a bit of a sore head in the morning, but it shouldn’t be debilitating.”  
  
Harry stood up then, shaking each of his limbs out in the process until he was back on two steady feet, he held a hand out to Draco, who took it gratefully and used Harry as a crutch until he too was rid of the pins and needles that had decided to spread up his right leg.  
  
“It’s good to feel you again.” Harry said with a cheeky smile. Draco responded with an eye roll but he couldn’t deny the happiness that flowed through to Harry nor could he keep the smile off his face. Harry used the hand that was still clasped in his own to draw Draco closer to his body. He felt like he had waited a lifetime for this, to have Draco in his arms again, without having to hide who they were or what they were.  
  
“I forgot how loud your feelings were Potter.” Draco said, but he didn’t fight the slow pull of Harry’s arm.  
  
“I almost forgot how much you loved me.” Harry replied in a soft murmur so that Hermione couldn’t overhear him, “Almost.” He repeated. With a gentle stroke of his fingers he pushed back Draco’s fringe, tucking it behind his ear where it was supposed to be. Draco’s breath hitched in his throat at the soft touch of Harry’s rough fingers, and he continued to hold his breath as Harry’s hand slid through his hair to hold onto the back of his neck.  
  
“Breathe.” Harry whispered as he hovered even closer to Draco’s face, lining their mouths up so he could lean in and steal the breath that Draco hastily exhaled. Then they were kissing. Nothing more than a solid press of lips against lips, as they tried to reacquaint themselves with sharing their minds once again.  
  
“I’m sorry to interrupt.” Hermione said from the side lines, “But I do think we should go back to the tower to see what happened.”  
  
“Come with?” Harry asked.  
  
“Okay,” Draco agreed, “But under the cloak. Just in case.” Harry kissed him on the mouth once more and grinned widely. For the first time in a long time Draco didn’t feel the need to hide the all encompassing happiness that he was projecting down their now open bond. If the spell worked like it should have done, then he didn’t need to hide anything anymore.  
  
X  
  
As it turned out, the invisibility cloak wasn’t necessary. The moment they entered the Gryffindor Common Room Ron jumped up to his feet and quickly walked towards them, crossing the room in long strides leaving behind the rest of the Sixth year boys who had managed to snag the sofas and armchairs closest to the fireplace. He hooked a hand around both of their elbows and pulled them both away from the hubbub of the Common room and up towards the boys dorms.  
  
“What happened?” Hermione asked as they were pulled up the stairs. Harry had to glance behind them to make sure Draco was still following, for a second he thought that he had been left behind in the common room but then he saw the toe of his shoe peeking out from under the cloak as he followed the three of them up the stairs.  
  
“Nothing, that’s what’s so weird.” Ron replied.  
  
“It didn’t work?” Harry asked, “I was so sure it worked.”  
  
“No, it definitely worked.” Ron herded them into the dorm room and almost closed the door on Draco in the process, “Shit, sorry.”  
  
“What do you mean? It worked but nothing happened?” Hermione probed Ron further once the door was finally shut and Draco was once again visible.  
  
“We were just having a normal conversation, then Seamus just pipes up and asks me if Harry and Malfoy are planning on getting back together at any point, because he’s getting bored of Harry’s pining.” Harry opened his mouth to refute that claim, until he realised that he might have been pining...just a little bit. Draco certainly seemed to agree because he turned to Harry with a teasing grin.  
  
“So...Everyone just remembered? Just like that?” Hermione asked. She began to dig into the bag that she had thrown over one shoulder when they had left the Room of Requirement, Harry had a feeling she was reaching for her notes.  
  
“Seems so. I didn’t even feel anything, up until that point I wasn’t even sure you had managed to cast it.”  
  
“And no one had any headaches?” Hermione asked, she pulled a rolled up parchment out of her bag but she continued to search for a quill.  
  
“No.”  
  
“Those crystals worked so much better than I expected.” Hermione admitted, “Do you know what they think happened?”  
  
“They just think that Harry and Malfoy had a massive fight in September and they broke up for a bit.”  
  
“I can’t believe everyone’s memories have snapped back like that. I thought we would be left with this big question mark over where Draco had been and why he and Harry haven’t been around each other.”  
  
“I think they were just trying to fill in the blanks.”  
  
“What have I said! The human mind is absolutely incredible.” Hermione looked at Harry with a sparkle in her eyes that only ever came at the end of a solved puzzle.  
  
“Well done Hermione, you’re a genius as per usual.” Harry wrapped an arm around her shoulders and hugged her to his side.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One of the hardest chapters to write and I think I re-wrote it a few times. What was in my head was refusing to be translated into words haha. But I hope it all came across okay. After a few re-writes it starts to get tedious haha.
> 
> Happy reading friends! :)


	40. Chapter 40

Interlude  
  
He was standing at the end of the formal dining table, with his palms flat against the surface of the marble. He could feel each breath filling the cavern of his chest, sustaining him in a way that magic never could. He hated it. He hated the breath in his lungs and the blood in his body more than he hated the corruption of the Wizarding World. But he could not survive without it, he had tried.  
  
The marble under his fingers was smooth and unblemished, pretentious in the way it stood surrounded by perfectly placed gold leaf chairs. It matched the grandeur of the rest of the room, large chandeliers adorned the ceiling and the frames that lined the walls were now empty and charred, portraits could never be trusted and he would not allow himself to be spied upon within these walls. The white and gold of the room spoke of a fortune that he had never had access to and a birthright that he had always deserved. He deserved all the gold in the land, he deserved obedience, he deserved to be surrounded by the blood of the ancient families. The white marble began to blacken under his hands, tarnished by the scorch of his magic as he considered what he was owed. What his weak Mother had stripped him of when she had taken up with a Muggle.  
  
He was waiting for the child and it’s Father to be brought before him. He had been patient thus far, he had waited for the child to be released from Hogwarts before summoning it. But the child had failed in its task and the consequences would be severe. He would not stand for failure, he would not reward incompetence. The child had approached him, had made a deal to save the life of its Father. But the task had failed, the Malfoy nuscience had returned to Potter’s side and his plans had been dashed into nothingness.  
  
“My Lord.” His follower entered the room and dropped to one knee. This one was loyal, unlike so many others, “Octavius Pepper and his Son.”  
  
He stood up, removing his hands from the table and not giving the scorch marks a second glance, such frivolous furnishings were unnecessary to his cause. He placed a hand on the head of his Follower and patted the hood of his cloak, it was a small gesture of gratitude for his service and his Follower bowed even deeper. Yes, this one was devoted to the cause. He moved past his Follower to look at the two half-bloods that had been brought to him. One older, dirty and thin from his time in the dungeons, the other young and healthy from his time at the abomination of a School that Hogwarts had become.  
  
“You kneel in the presence of a Lord.” He spat. This was the smallest of expectations and he had to ensure that no one would be exempt. The half-bloods dropped down to their knees instantly, were they pure-bloods they may have made honourable Followers.  
  
“You failed.” He approached the Child. The Father twitched and he enjoyed the discomfort as he neared the Child. He reached out and pierced the tip of his fingernail into the skin under the Child's chin, forcing it to raise its head to look at him. It did not meet his eyes and it stank of a fear that was well deserved.  
  
“You were supposed to keep our Draco away from Potter.”  
  
“I-I-”  
  
“Enough stammering fool. You were confident enough to deliver Malfoy to me in exchange for your Father's life, you should be confident enough to face punishment for your failure.” The child began to cry. He would gain no pleasure out of dispatching this one, in the same way as it was not fulfilling or gratifying to kill an insect.  
  
“He showed no sign of being anywhere near-I didn’t know-I-” Maybe there would be hope yet for the Child, it raised his head as pride won over fear. Maybe there would be pleasure in its death after all.  
  
“Quiet child!” He roared, “I warned you of the consequences.”  
  
“No, please, he’s my Son. Kill me instead.” The Father sobbed but he didn’t dare to move from his place on the floor.  
  
“Avada Kedavra.” The Child fell to the floor, lifeless, and as useless as it had been in life.  
  
“I believe you have another Child within Hogwarts, do you not?”  
  
“No, h-he is too young to do what you ask.”  
  
“Nonsense.” He patted his Followers head as he passed by him once again, turning to the windows that lined one of the walls overlooking the grounds.  
  
“Take him back to the dungeons and provide parchment and a quill. I expect a letter addressed to the Second Born child within the hour.”  
  
“Yes my Lord.” His Follower bowed low before backing out of the room.  
  
“And remove the body.” He heard his follower dragging the Child out of the room behind them and the muffled sobs of the Father as the door closed behind them.   
  
His time in this house was running out, the search must be doubled to find the item before he was removed from the premises once again. If he had to rip the walls from the very foundation to find his Diary then he would. And once Britain was in line he would take Hogwarts castle as his birth right, and he would turn it into a castle befitting the Heir of Slytherin, and a school befitting his regime.


	41. Chapter 41

Harry woke up suddenly as a flash of green light passed across his eyelids. He sat up slowly, pushing himself up onto his elbows and looking around the darkness of his room in Grimmauld Place to see if anything could have contributed to the flash of light. In a way he already knew where it had come from, he just hoped he was wrong. He hadn’t had a vision from Voldemort in months, a part of him had hoped that they had stopped (though he knew he wasn’t anywhere near that lucky). He sighed deeply and rubbed a hand across his head, feeling the ridges of his scar under his palm and cursing the name of Tom Riddle and Voldemort for ruining a good night's sleep on top of everything else.  
  
He looked to his left, Draco was asleep next to him as he had been since the night they had reversed the False Memory spell. He was facing away from Harry and was curled in on himself. Harry wanted nothing more than to reach out and touch him, he didn’t want to wake him, just wanted to take comfort in the knowledge that he was there and whole. Or at least, somewhat whole. There had been tension between them since their first night back together, while Harry had grinned widely at him as they stood next to his bed, Draco had only looked at the sheets in trepidation. He had felt the hesitation clearly and he had opened his mouth to soothe Draco’s anxiety but the blonde had snatched up a pair of Harry’s pyjamas and disappeared into the bathroom to get changed. Harry changed alone and slid under the covers while he waited for Draco to appear again. Draco reappeared a long while later, and Harry was already groggily hovering in that almost asleep state. The shame that Draco had been feeling had been almost overwhelming, but Draco was quick to shut himself off from Harry’s mental reach. Harry just lifted a corner of the duvet and Draco slid under with him. He hadn’t been expecting anything, least of all sex, especially after what they had been through that evening, but he had hoped that he could at least hold Draco. The moment the blonde laid down between the sheets he had given Harry a small kiss to the cheek and turned his back, curling in on himself. Much like he was doing now.  
  
Everything was normal during the day. Draco was gracious to the Weasleys in Grimmauld, he was soft towards Harry, and he paid attention to the needs of his Mother. But the nights were tense and awkward between them. Harry knew why, the slight glimpse he had got of the Dark Mark when Draco forgot to lock the bedroom door once was a harsh reminder of what he was currently going through. Draco was being careful with their connection, he was keeping his side muted and closed off and Harry was once again beginning to miss having Draco’s emotions running riot in his mind.  
  
Harry’s hand hovered over Draco’s shoulder for a split second, he didn’t seem to want Harry to touch him while he was awake and Harry didn’t want to betray his trust while he was asleep. So instead he pulled himself away and dragged himself out of bed, shivering in the cold room as he remembered that the sheets had multiple warming charms activated. He got dressed quickly and quietly, and made his way out of the room while he pulled on his last sock, hopping a bit on the spot in the middle of the hallway. He wasn’t sure who would be awake at (he cast a quick Tempus) four thirty in the morning but there was always someone in the house who was up and about and he wouldn’t mind scrounging up a cup of tea. Entering the kitchen he almost froze on the spot as he realised that there was indeed one person awake, and it hadn’t been who he had expected.  
  
“Mrs Malfoy.” Harry said in surprise.  
  
“Mr Potter,” She looked up from the book she had been reading, just as surprised as Harry was to see her. He told her every time he saw her to call him Harry but it fell on deaf ears and she continued to address him as Mr Potter.  
  
“Good morning.”  
  
“Is it indeed?” She asked, amused, “Rather early to be considered as such, I would rather say it was a good night.”  
  
“Quite.” Harry agreed with a small smile, “Do you mind if I-” He gestured to one of the seats.  
  
“Please, do join me.” She motioned to the seat opposite her and Harry entered the room gladly, allowing the door to shut behind him to block out the cold air that filled the rest of the house, “Tea?”  
  
“Er, yes, please.” The teapot levitated in the air and poured out a cup for him, “Thank you.” Then they were silent. Now that he was sitting here with her he was starting to think of a million questions which he had never thought of before. Things about Draco, about the manor, about Death Eaters.  
  
“Does Malfoy Manor have a dining room with a marble table?” He asked instead.  
  
“Yes.” She said after a moment of hesitation, “We call it the Gold Dining Room, rather unoriginal but most informative.”  
  
“I thought so. I had a dream.”  
  
“About the Dark Lord?” She asked, and Harry tried not to bristle at the title that she still bestowed upon him. He supposed that he couldn’t expect her to say Voldemort, and a Lady of her station would probably never be caught dead uttering a ridiculous nickname like You-Know-Who or He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named.  
  
“Yeah.” Harry replied, and she responded with a deep sigh.  
  
“When I found out that he had gained entry to the Manor once again I was-” She paused, gathering her words, “I would say upset but I don’t quite believe that covers the emotion as a whole.” Harry nodded, he understood, he had felt the same when he had heard that Voldemort was back in the Manor.  
  
“Is there any way to kick him out again?” Harry asked.  
  
“Lucius kept the information locked within his office and I was never privy to that branch of Malfoy magic. If I’m correct, then I do believe that it must be done from within the Manor, but it would be too dangerous for Draco to gain access again. It was easier the first time, when the Lord title shifts to the Heir the wards are automatically reset and all within are removed from the premises.” Harry nodded, at least they would have something to go on if they ever needed to gain control of the Manor once more.  
  
“I suppose I have yet to thank you Harry.” She was looking at him solemnly and Harry busied himself with wrapping his fingers around the china cup in front of him so he wouldn’t blush, “Once again you saved my Son.”  
  
“Not from everything.” Harry murmured.  
  
“No.” She sighed deeply, “No I suppose not.” She knew about the Mark, Harry realised.  
  
“Draco told you?”  
  
“The very day you all arrived for the Holiday.” Mrs Malfoy took a sip of tea and stared down into the milky brown depths, Harry wondered whether she would be saying any of this to him if it weren’t a ridiculous time in the morning, the time between midnight and six am always seemed to bring the truth out of people, “He was most distraught.”  
  
“There’s nothing that we can do?”  
  
“No, my late Husband searched for years, but it is permanent.”  
  
“Draco thought I would hate him.”  
  
“Do you?”  
  
“No.”  
  
“Not even a little?” She asked again and Harry looked up at her in confusion. It sounded like she wanted him to say yes, but upon meeting her eyes he realised that she was only trying to protect Draco. She wanted him to be honest with her.  
  
“I hate the monster that did it to him, and I hate what it stands for. But I don’t hate him, I could never.”  
  
“He came to me and he asked the same.” She paused and Harry didn’t comment, he had a feeling she had more to add to that statement, “I fear he will always believe that he will be hated because of it. I don’t think he will ever be able to accept that it is a part of him now.”  
  
“I don’t think I have accepted it yet either.” Harry admitted. The little glances he had caught of Draco’s bare arm had caused such deep revulsion in his gut that he wasn’t sure he had shut the feeling down before it could make it’s way over to Draco. The dark ink looked so out of place against the perfection of his fair skin and Harry had forced himself to stop and think about it, the revulsion was for the Mark, for the magic that had put it there, and the pain that it was causing him. And Harry could tell that it was painful, every now and then Draco would wince and his left hand would flex into a tight fist as the pain peaked for a second or two, before subsiding back to a low ache, it was punishment from Voldemort for finding his way back to Harry.  
  
“Maybe you should, I think it would help him come to terms with it.”  
  
“I’ll work on that.” And Harry wouldn't want to spend the rest of his life staring at Draco’s back because his Soulmate was too ashamed to face him.  
  
“I think I shall try to get another hour or so of sleep tonight.” Narcissa said once she finished the tea in the bottom of her cup. She waved her wand and the two teacups, saucers and the teapot levitated to the sink to wait for the morning.  
  
“Would you like a hand?” Harry asked.  
  
“If you would be so kind, Harry.” He offered her his elbow and he took her cane in his other hand, “Unfortunately there’s only so much that magic can heal.” Harry remembered the spell that Bellatrix had cast at her in the Department of Mysteries, it had caused permanent damage to her knee, but Draco, and Harry by extension, had just been glad that she wasn’t dead as they had first thought. Harry helped her up the stairs, allowing her to rest some weight on his arm as they walked down the hallway to her room.  
  
“Thank you.” She paused with her hand on the door knob as she considered Harry with a cautious gaze, “My Son is much more fragile than he would have anyone believe-” Harry opened his mouth to argue that point, he knew Draco to be one of the strongest and most powerful people he knew, but she raised a hand to silence him before he could utter a single word, “Not physically, but emotionally. I am ashamed to say that his childhood left much to be desired when it came to emotional support and he learned to suppress his emotions at an early age.” Harry was silent as she continued to regard him with a critical eye, how could he have forgotten how like his Mother Draco was, “I entrust my Son to you. His physical and emotional wellbeing is in your hands now. Make him feel like he is the most important person in your world and he will stand by your side for life.”  
  
“He is the most important person in my world.” Harry said plainly.  
  
“Then show him.” She turned the door knob and Harry handed her cane back, “Good Night Mr Potter.” She said with a wry smile and she stepped into her room and closed the door behind her.  
  
Harry made his way back to his room on the floor above. He thought about Draco, about the pain that Draco was in emotionally and physically, about how he had found his way back to Harry even without his memories to explain why. So what if he had a tattoo on his arm. It was just a stupid tattoo. Put there while he wasn’t in his right mind, by a man who had no right to claim power over Draco’s body in that way. Harry was thinking about it so hard that he didn’t think to stop the door from slamming behind him. It closed with a loud thump of wood hitting wood. Draco woke instantly, sitting bolt upright in bed and looking towards the door fearfully. It only lasted a split second. Even in the dark room he was able to recognise the outline of Harry standing by the now closed door.  
  
“Harry?” He said, as the adrenaline slowly seeped from his body, “What time is it?” He rubbed at his eyes and tried to reach for his wand, failing a couple of times as it rolled across the nightstand away from his fingers.   
  
“Lumos.” The light was small and dim, but it lit up Draco’s face beautifully and cast shadows across the rest of the room.  
  
“Where have you been?” Draco asked when he noticed that Harry was fully dressed. Harry didn’t speak. He crossed the room in three quick strides and fell to his knees at Draco’s side. He took Draco’s hand, his left hand, between both of his own.  
  
“I love you.” Harry said, and he allowed his fingers to slowly trail up to Draco’s wrist. Draco tried to tug his hand away, and a spark of fear and shame spiked through their connection, but Harry held on tightly. He had allowed Draco to pull away from him for the past week, he needed to address this now, while the conversation with Narcissa was fresh in his mind and before he could lose his courage.  
  
“I love you.” He repeated, and one hand held Draco’s arm in place, while his other hand began to, ever so slowly, push up the long sleeve that covered the black tattoo, “I love all of you.” Harry kept his movements slow and precise, if Draco wanted him to stop then he would be more than capable, but he was allowing the touch.  
  
“Harry-don’t.” Draco pleaded, but he didn't try to pull away with any amount of force that would make Harry let go, so Harry continued. They needed to put the nerves and the tension behind them, Harry had spent too long waiting for Draco to allow something to drive a wedge between them now.  
  
“Every inch of you.” Harry continued to say.  
  
“You don’t want to see it. I know how you feel-” Draco continued to protest.  
  
“Darling.” Harry whispered and the single word seemed to cause Draco to freeze under his touch. Harry’s fingers continued to push up the sleeve and Harry could see the head of the snake now, peeking out below the pale green silk of Draco’s pyjama shirt. Draco clamped his eyes shut as the Dark Mark was slowly revealed by the gentle movements of Harry's hands.   
  
Harry looked at it. And looked. And looked. And he realised that he felt none of the revulsion as he had before. He simply felt sad for Draco. The skin around it was inflamed and raw, and Harry couldn’t tell if that was because of the pain that Voldemort was causing, or from Draco scrubbing at himself every time he went for a shower. Harry stroked down the length of the moving tattoo, hoping that his cool fingers could stifle some of the soreness from the inflammation, even just for a second. Draco, with his eyes still clamped shut, shivered.  
  
“Why did you do that?” Draco asked quietly.  
  
“I want you to know that I accept every part of you, even this. I’m sorry this happened to you Draco. But I don’t hate you for it, because it wasn’t your fault.” And Harry did something that he never, not in a million years, imagined he would ever do. He leaned down and with soft, dry and maybe slightly chapped lips, he placed a single lingering kiss directly to the centre of the Mark, “I love you. Please let me continue loving you.” And when Harry looked up Draco was looking down at him with wide grey eyes which seemed to reflect the soft light coming from the tip of his wand on the nightstand, turning them almost golden in the darkness of the room.  
  
"I don't want to accept it. I don't want  _ you _ to have to accept it."  
  
"But I do, because it's a part of you now."  
  
"I don't want it to be a part of me." Draco said, "I don't want it, Harry." He repeated.  
  
"I know." Harry nudged him over so he could climb into bed and off the hard wooden floor.  
  
"I don't want it." Draco said again and his voice was desolate and defeated, "I hate it." Harry guided him down to lay against him, cradled his head against his neck and encouraged him to hook a leg over his calf, all the while Draco repeated, "I hate it. I don't want it. I hate it."  
  
"I know, Darling." Harry whispered back every time until his words eventually silenced into nothing, and they began to fall asleep against each other for the first time in a long long time.


	42. Chapter 42

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *spoiler alert*  
> Sexy times

It was Christmas Eve, and almost all the occupants of Grimmauld Place were sitting together in the sitting room. Harry and Draco had claimed the original couch, and Hermione had squeezed her way onto the end. Someone had taken it upon themselves to transfigure a few more sofas and armchairs, and the room was now full of a mis-match of occupied seats. The coffee table had been expanded and was almost bowing under the weight of the dishes that Mrs Weasley had whipped up for the occasion. Platters of mince pies, apple tarts, bowls of muggle crisps that Hermione had brought with her from her Parents house, bowls of chocolates and plates of sausage rolls and small sandwich triangles. Someone had even managed to conjure up a large, highly decorated Christmas tree which stood in the corner of the room, towering over them with twinkling magical lights.  
  
Halfway through the evening, and interrupting a round of laughter at another of the Weasley Twins inventions, Harry felt Draco flinch next to him. When he looked over Draco’s left hand was clenched into a fist and Harry instantly knew that pain was radiating from the Mark. Harry could imagine the way his neatly trimmed fingernails were biting into the palm of his hand to prevent himself from making any noise that would draw attention to their little corner of the room. Without saying a word to Draco, which no doubt would have pulled attention away from the story that Sirius was re-enacting to the rest of the room, Harry stroked Draco’s clenched fist with gentle fingers before sliding his hand up the sleeve of Draco’s formal robe, he had his arms tucked tight against his body so that no one could see what he was doing. Harry heard the heavy swallow from Draco when his hand finally enclosed around his bare forearm, covering the black ink with the palm of his hand. Harry concentrated for a second and called his magic to sit in his palm, once his hand was tingling with the prickle of magic it took only the slightest manipulation to force a cooling spell to sit over Draco’s skin.  
  
The effect was instantaneous. Draco’s breath released as a slow sigh and his hand relaxed and came to rest over Harry’s knee. Harry knew he was still in some pain, but at least he could help in this small way. He smiled to himself when Draco leaned against his side, pressing a little closer to try and hide where Harry’s hand was. Harry tuned back into the story at that point, only to see Sirius collapsing next to Remus with a large grin splitting his face. Harry hadn’t really taken in much of what he had said but he could enjoy the happiness that he was exuding. There was once a time when Sirius had hated being trapped in this house, Harry was glad that he finally had people around to keep him company, Harry could tell that it was making a world of difference.  
  
The silence in the room after Sirius’ performance was broken by Mrs Weasley urging everyone to dig into the finger food feast that was still sat untouched in the centre of the room. As everyone stood up to grab a plate Harry felt Hermione move from his side and go over to talk to Ginny who had managed to claim an armchair for herself, rather than being wedged next to Fleur and Bill who were cuddling up as close as they possibly could.   
  
“Thank you.” Draco whispered, “It feels a lot better.” Harry smiled over at him and with one last stroke of his fingers against the skin of Draco’s inner elbow he dragged his fingers down the raised skin, scarred from the harsh lines of the magical tattoo, and over Draco’s wrist. Draco looked at him, and bit his bottom lip as Harry laced their fingers together on his thigh. His eyes were as striking as they always were, a stormy grey that pulled Harry in and kept him locked in place. He opened his mouth to speak and Harry watched the movement of his mouth, the pale pink of his bottom lip was flushed red from the bite of his teeth and Harry wanted to soothe it away. Whatever Draco had intended to say never left his mouth as he lost himself in the green of Harry’s eyes.  
  
“Something to eat?” Harry murmured in a vague attempt to distract himself from the pounding of his heart and the desire curling through his stomach, he would have thought that he was alone in that if it weren’t for the answering wave of want that came from Draco’s direction. They might have felt more comfortable around each other since they both had come to terms with the Dark Mark having a place upon Draco’s skin, but they were yet to act on any of the sexual tension that was starting to stir up every time they looked at each other. Draco still found it difficult to expose his arm to Harry’s gaze and Harry respected him too much to ask for something he wasn’t quite ready to give.  
  
“Yes, please.” Draco smiled at him and Harry left him behind on the coach as he joined the group who were huddled around the coffee table and leaning over each other to reach whatever they wanted. Given how many people were in the room Harry was glad for the space that he had put between them, he didn’t think he could quite live with himself if he got hard with so many people in the room. Draco probably would have been fine, he was wearing a long robe that would easily hide any state he found himself in, Harry’s jeans on the other hand were not so forgiving.  
  
After passing over a small plate of some of Draco’s favourite treats Harry allowed himself to get carried away in conversation, bouncing between Sirius and Remus, the twins who were eager to talk to him about their new inventions, and Hermione and Ginny who were talking about Ginny’s OWLs (of all things to talk about on Christmas Eve), before circling back to Draco. He had found himself in conversation with Fleur and they were talking back and forth in rapid French, so Harry simply passed a drink over to him and made the rounds once again. He couldn’t remember any of his previous Christmases being so full of joy, last year he was so weighed down by the guilt of Mr Weasley's attack that he couldn’t really enjoy being in the house with the Weasleys and his Godfather. The year before they had all stayed at Hogwarts and Harry’s life was on the line in the Triwizard Tournament, in third year the threat of “Sirius Black” had kept him castle bound, and so the pattern continued the further back he remembered. Harry would never have expected to call this big group of mismatched people his family, but he was so glad of it.  
  
“Should we head up Harry?” Harry turned away from his conversation with Remus and Sirius as Draco appeared at his side and caught his hand, “It’s getting late.” And so it was, Harry had barely even noticed people drifting off upstairs to bed but when he looked around, the sitting room had to be at least half as full as it was a few hours ago. The nibbles and snacks were all but eaten and the fireplace had burned low enough to be practically embers in the grate.  
  
“Yeah, good point. See you both tomorrow.” Harry said to his Godfathers.  
  
“Goodnight Harry.” They answered, Remus was looking at him with a small smile while Sirius was grinning widely between them, “Don’t do something we wouldn’t do.” Sirius added with a barely contained cackle. Harry blushed but he was saved by Draco tugging him gently away and Remus hitting Sirius in the arm to silence him.  
  
Walking up the stairs, hand in hand with Draco, was almost an erotic experience in itself. The silence between them was thick with tension, as though they both knew exactly what would be awaiting them the moment they made it back to their room. They didn’t need to speak, they only needed to feel, and those feelings were saying more than any words ever could. The door closed behind them with a solid click and Harry could feel Draco’s breath fanning against his cheek as they stood together just in front of the now closed door. Draco made the first move, he flicked his wand to lock the door with a quick and simple spell and Harry could feel the magic peeling away from their joined core and dissipating as the spell took effect.  
  
“Sure?” Harry whispered as Draco began to lean closer, it had been a long time. Much too long. And Harry ached to feel Draco under his hands. He craved the softness of Draco’s skin which always flushed under the touch of his fingers and the press of his mouth.  
  
“Yes.” Draco answered, his tone was just as soft, just as reverent. Harry really didn’t need to be told twice. His hands darted up to catch Draco around the waist, sliding his arms around his slender figure until he was tugged tight against the line of Harry’s body. Harry’s mouth came down upon Draco’s and Harry felt like he was breathing fresh air for the first time in months. It wasn’t their first kiss since Draco’s memory had returned, but it was the first one that was leading towards something more. Towards the large bed that was sitting in the centre of the far wall opposite the door they had just stepped through.  
  
Harry heard the way Draco’s breath caught in his throat and he felt the rise and fall of Draco’s chest against his own. Then there was a pair of hands in his hair, fluttering against the back of his neck, sliding across the breadth of his shoulders, while Harry’s tongue teased it’s way into Draco’s mouth.  
  
“Bed?” Draco mumbled against Harry’s lips when they finally broke apart for air. Harry wanted to ask again if Draco was sure, but Draco’s desire was roaring through his mind as loudly as his own and he knew that they were both ready for this. They were finally in a good spot to continue where they had left off almost four months ago.  
  
Harry slowly walked Draco backwards, using the anchor of Draco’s thigh against his own to lead him where he needed to go, and they kissed the whole way. Long luxurious kisses of open mouth against open mouth, interspersed with sharp gasping breaths. Harry gripped his hands in the sides of Draco’s shirt, wanting nothing more than to slide each button free so that Draco stood bare in front of him. Draco’s hands found the front of his pale blue shirt before Harry’s did, and he made quick work of the buttons. Stopping only when the shirt hung limp from his shoulders, baring his chest to the chilly air but leaving his arms encased in rich, expensive cotton.  
  
“Gorgeous.” Harry breathed against the skin of Draco’s jaw. He followed the curve of Draco’s cheek with his lips, making his way across the sharp line of his jaw. His skin was soft and practically flawless under Harry’s mouth and Harry drifted towards that spot under Draco’s jaw that he loved so much. He pressed gentle kisses to the sensitive skin and didn’t hesitate to tug the shirt from Draco’s shoulders. Then he was standing half naked in the circle of Harry’s arms and he couldn’t even feel self conscious about the Mark on his arm because Harry was touching him with a reverence that chased all thoughts of self doubt right out of his mind.  
  
Draco could feel Harry pulling back to say something to him, and Draco knew that it was about the spark of self doubt that had made its way through their connection before it had been chased away. But Draco shook his head and cupped Harry’s chin to bring their mouths back together. He didn’t want them to talk about it, they’d done so much talking recently. Of Harry making Draco feel better about himself, and Draco making Harry feel better about the whole situation. But now wasn’t for talking, now was for kissing, for touching, for reacquainting their bodies. Draco felt the curve of Harry’s cock, trapped tight against his thigh in the confines of his Muggle jeans, and it was pressing against his own responding hardness.  
  
“Naked.” Draco gasped out. He didn’t even need to follow it up with any context because Harry was ripping his mouth away and tugging his jumper and t-shirt up over his head, leaving himself just as bare as Draco was. But then his hands dropped to his belt and the zipper of his jeans and Draco had to swallow heavily as those damned delightful Muggle jeans, (which made Harry’s arse look fantastic) dropped to his ankles, pooling around his trainers which he was still yet to kick off.  
  
“Fuck.” The curse word was whispered on the end of an exhale as Draco looked Harry up and down, his eyes lingering on the heavy weight of his cock that bobbed against his thigh. Draco was quick to follow suit, he pulled his belt open and shimmied his trousers and underwear over his hips so that they could fall to the floor. And then they were standing naked in front of each other, and Draco almost forgot that Harry’s skin was so much darker than his own, he had forgotten about the scar on Harry’s shoulder from the Dragon in fourth year, the scar on his arm from Wormtail's knife, the trail of dark hair that led the way down the center of his chest. He had forgotten about the cut of Harry’s hips that led a perfect V right to his dick, and the flushed thick length that Draco wanted to touch so badly. Then he noticed the way Harry was looking at him, as though he was an oasis in the middle of a desert and he flushed from his cheeks down the length of his neck and across his chest.  
  
“This okay?” Harry asked as he palmed Draco’s hips with his large rough hands.  
  
“Yes.” Draco replied. One of Harry’s hands drifted from his hips, following the line of his pelvis.  
  
“Come on.” Harry murmured. His hands were back on Draco’s hips, guiding him down to the bed and pressing him deep into the soft mattress.  
  
“Good?” Harry asked, when Draco was flat on his back, with his legs overhanging the mattress so Harry could stand between his knees and run his hands up and down Draco’s slender body.  
  
“It will be, once you get your hand back on my dick.” Draco snapped when Harry’s hands seemed to drift everywhere but the one place he wanted him to touch the most. Harry laughed in response, but he complied instantly. Draco arched up into his touch and Harry couldn’t help himself when he bent down and laved his tongue across the pebbled pink nipple in front of him.  
  
“Fuck, fuck,” Draco gasped, “Harry.” Draco’s hands flew to Harry’s arms and between them tugging, pushing and pulling each other they managed to get themselves in the centre of the bed and Harry found himself, once again, between Draco’s long legs and strong thighs.  
  
“Yeah?” Harry asked, checking in with Draco as he nudged those thighs even further apart.  
  
“Yes.” Draco moaned out, “Please, everything.” His hands grasped at Harry’s shoulders, at his hair, at his forearms, he gripped onto any part of Harry’s body that was within reach as Harry prepped him slowly and carefully.  
  
“Tell me when, okay? I don’t want to hurt you.”  
  
“You won’t, you won’t, yes, please…” Draco chanted with his head thrown back against the pillows, his hair creating a white halo around his head against the dark sheets, while his fingers dug into the muscle of Harry’s thick thigh, “I need you.”  
  
“Okay Darling.”  
  
As Harry entered him Draco’s mouth fell open in a silent gasp. His fingers gripped the sheets, pulling everything on the bed closer to his body as he stretched out and contracted back into himself. Harry guided one of his legs up to his shoulder and Draco dug his toes into the muscle that he found there.  
  
“Are you okay?” Harry asked. Draco could feel Harry’s hands shaking against his hips. The front of Harry’s thighs were pressed against his arse and Draco could feel the twitch of his muscles as he worked hard to keep himself still.  
  
“Move, you asshole.” Draco nudged Harry’s shoulder with his foot, urging the bloody Gryffindor to bloody fucking  _ move.  
  
_ And then Harry did.  
  
And it was  _ everything.  _ Everything Draco remembered, everything Draco wanted and more, so much more. He didn’t think any part of his memory could do Harry justice. He was so lost in his head that he only realised Harry was talking when he turned his head to kiss at Draco’s ankle.  
  
“I love you,” He was saying, “I  _ love  _ you. I love  _ you.”  _ And the repetition, chanted in time to each snap of his hips, was all that Draco needed to push him over the edge of that cliff of pleasure.  
  
Afterwards, when they were clean and lying boneless together under the sheets, Draco turned to Harry. He cupped his hands around Harry’s jaw, stared into the impossible green of Harry’s eyes, and he whispered so softly and gently-   
  
“I love you too.”


	43. Chapter 43

Returning to Hogwarts after the Christmas holidays was almost a surreal experience, Harry felt lucky to have Draco next to him, there was a time last term when he had thought that they wouldn’t find their back to one another.   
  
It was on New Years Eve only a few minutes past midnight, when Draco had his arms thrown carelessly over Harry’s shoulders and Harry’s arms were wrapped lazily around his waist as they brought in the new year with soft kisses and large grins. Draco had said, with his mouth close to Harry’s ear so that he could hear him over the sound of the Weasley twins indoor fireworks, “ _ let’s forget about what happened, I don’t want to talk about it anymore. Can we just move past it?” _ And in true New Years fashion they made a silent resolution to move past the events of the last term and get on with their lives. They sealed the promise with a gentle kiss, which turned into a gentle round of love making less than an hour later. Harry had taken the opportunity to press his mouth to every inch of Draco’s body and pinned Draco’s arm to the pillow above his head using nothing more than a single hand clasped tightly around the throbbing Dark Mark on his forearm. Reminding Draco, that although he was carrying around someone else’s mark, his Soul and his body belonged to Harry.  
  
A couple of days before they were due in Kings Cross Station to return to Hogwarts, Draco cornered Harry while he was getting dressed for the day. He stood in front of the wardrobe with his arms crossed tightly across his chest while Harry stood shirtless in front of him.  
  
“I’m going to Gringotts tomorrow.” He sounded determined enough for Harry to pause before answering.  
  
“Okay?” Was all Harry could come up with.  
  
“I’ve asked Moody and Tonks to accompany me.” And the determination gave his voice a hard edge, one which Harry knew he wouldn’t even be able to argue against even if he tried.  
  
“Okay.”  
  
“I’m going to get the Cup from the Lestrange accounts.” Draco seemed to sag slightly, almost as though he had been waiting for Harry to try to convince him otherwise and was relieved when Harry did no such thing.  
  
“I figured.”  
  
“You aren’t going to stop me?”  
  
“Would I be successful?” Harry asked and he finally pulled the shirt over his head that he had been holding for the duration of their conversation.  
  
“...No.” Draco answered slowly.  
  
“Then why would I bother trying?” Harry gave him a half smile, “What are you going to do with it once you find it?”  
  
“I asked Moody if he knew of a container that could hold a cursed object and he’s given me a lockbox that should be fairly effective. I think I will leave it here too, I don’t want to risk taking it to Hogwarts.”  
  
“Do you want to give it to Dumbledore?” Harry asked.  
  
“No, not until we know exactly what it is. It might be a Horcrux, but it might not be.”  
  
“Okay.” Harry nodded and walked past Draco to get to the bedroom door, pausing for a split second to press a kiss to Draco’s temple, “Just be careful, yeah?” Harry said before he left the room and Draco’s nod was enough for him to allow the door to close behind him.  
  
The next day, Draco did go to Gringotts, and Harry was left in Grimmauld Place. He was sitting on the edge of his bed, rolling a Memory vial between his hands and was considering going into the Pensieve to pass the time (on Boxing Day he had gone into the memory titled “Harry’s First Christmas” and he was considering the one titled “New Years 1980”). The decision was taken out of his hands when Draco entered the room at that very moment. He dropped something square and heavy next to the Pensieve on the desk as he passed it and he practically threw himself into Harry’s chest. Harry held him, wrapped him tightly in his arms and clung onto him just as desperately.  
  
“Did you know the Lestranges have a Dragon protecting their vaults? Not even the Malfoys have a Dragon.” Draco said a few minutes later, “The poor thing.”  
  
“I think Hagrid mentioned it once.”  
  
“Of course he did.” Draco said with a humourless laugh. Harry knew that he had managed to fetch the Cup, if the box on his desk was any indication, but he had a feeling Draco had discovered a lot more in those vaults than he was ready to speak about. Harry had seen Draco shaken up more times in the past month than he really cared for but he hoped that this was the last time for a little while. He missed the Draco who stood up to anyone and everything with square shoulders and steely eyes, but until that version of Draco was ready to return Harry would hold him, just like this, and make sure that he felt as safe as he needed to feel.  
  
They left the box in one of the drawers of the desk when they levitated their trunks out of the room the next morning. Harry gave it one last long look, he thought about the significance of the small cup that could possibly hold a piece of Voldemort's soul. If it was a Horcrux then at least it was one they could cross off the list.  
  
“Pumpkin Pasty, Harry?” Ron offered, bringing Harry back to the present and pulling his attention away from the fields that he could barely see through the fog that fell just as heavily as it had during the summer. Yet another reminder of the dangers that awaited them in the future.  
  
“Er, yeah, sure.” Harry took the pasty and bit off a huge chunk of the crust. Mrs Weasley had packed them all sandwiches, much to Ron’s dismay and embarrassment, but as always they sat uneaten under the pile of sweets that Harry and Draco had bought from the trolley. Harry and Hermione had been the only ones to touch them, eating half a sandwich each (out of some sort of misplaced Gryffindor obligation, according to Draco) before starting in on the sweets and pastries.  
  
“So, Pansy still won’t talk to me.” Draco threw the sliding door open and announced loudly to the whole carriage, “She ignored all of my Owls and now she won’t even look at me.”  
  
“She’s just hurt,” Hermione was the first to reply, since Harry and Ron’s mouths were stuffed full of Pumpkin Pasty, “She’ll come around.”  
  
“She’s the one who didn’t want to know anything. She told me not to tell her!” Draco exclaimed and shoved the sweets to one side so he could sit next to Harry.  
  
“Girls.” Ron said with a roll of his eyes, “Pretty glad I broke up with Lavender you know, she was getting so dramatic.”  
  
“Well you weren’t exactly treating her very well, were you? You barely spent any time with her.” Hermione said in a clipped tone, she hadn’t been very supportive of their relationship but was even less supportive of Ron treating a girl badly.  
  
“That’s because she was dramatic! And I couldn’t deal with the pet names.”  
  
“Aww, Won-Won, I thought you loved the pet names.” Ginny teased, it earned her a chocolate frog to the face, which she gladly ripped open.  
  
“His eyes are as green as a fresh pickled toad-” Ron started to lament, with his arm raised in the air as though he were a Shakespearean actor, he was quickly cut off by a book flying at his head.  
  
“Hey!” The exclamation came from both Ron, who had barely managed to catch it before it made contact with his face, and Hermione who was horrified that anyone could treat a book in such a way.  
  
“I’m going to find Luna.” Ginny glared at Ron as she left the carriage, but Harry could see the blush forming high up on her cheeks.  
  
“His hair is as dark as a blackboard-!” Ron yelled after her, barely containing his laughter as Ginny slammed the door behind her and sent him the finger through the glass. Harry tried not to laugh as well, he didn’t really like to rub Ginny's old crush in her face, it just didn’t really seem very fair. Out of the corner of his eye he could see Draco looking at him inquisitively, staring up at Harry’s hair with his eyebrows drawn together, as though he was studying a particularly difficult potion.  
  
“What?” Harry asked, when the staring continued after a handful of seconds.  
  
“You know…” Draco paused, his eyes not moving from the top of Harry’s head, “She wasn’t wrong.” He tugged at a lock of Harry’s hair in focused consideration.  
  
“Oh, shut it.” Harry laughed and pushed him away playfully.  
  
X  
  
“Pansy-” Draco tried to talk to her again in the Slytherin Common Room. The feast was over, and everyone seemed to be lounging around on the green leather couches, full and sleepy after the day of travelling and the vast amount of food that had been on offer.  
  
“You didn’t tell me anything!” She said, and not for the first time either.  
  
“You didn’t want to know!” Draco replied, and it also wasn’t the first time he had used that argument either.  
  
“I’m your best friend, you should have told me everything as soon as you knew about it.”  
  
“You wanted plausible deniability. It wouldn’t have been fair for me to put you in that position, what if you Father had decided to take you to the Manor?”  
  
“I would have been fine.” She turned her chin away from him, but Draco could tell he was getting through to her, finally. He could always tell the difference when she was just pretending to be mad, drawing out the argument for the sake of not admitting she was wrong.  
  
“No you wouldn’t have.” Draco replied. She didn’t reply and she didn’t look at him, but she was losing the hard glare that she had been directing towards a tapestry on the far wall.  
  
“I wanted to tell you.” Draco admitted, “As soon as I found out about Harry and about the whole memory thing, before I’d even got any of my memories back. But-”  
  
“You didn’t know if you could trust me?” Pansy asked with a deep frown.  
  
“I didn’t know which side you would have chosen.” He admitted.  
  
“You knew how I felt about it, as I knew how you felt about it.” She said, finally turning to look at him, she sounded hurt and that was the last thing Draco had intended to happen.  
  
“A lot can happen in a year.” Draco said.  
  
“I know.” Pansy answered, “I think you’re proof of that.” And then she smiled slightly at him and he smiled back, and as far as Draco could tell, all was forgiven between them.  
  
“Now tell me everything, exactly as it happened and how.” There was a sparkle to her eyes and Draco laughed.  
  
“Come down to my Dorm, I’m not talking about this out here.” He could already feel the glares boring into his back from the group of students sitting in front of the fire. Hermione had been concerned about the consistency of everyone's memories during their period of memory loss, effectively spanning from the beginning of October to the middle of December. But it seemed the “psychology” of memory that she had mentioned seemed to work both ways, for the year that Draco was missing from everyone's memories people simply placed him where they believed he should be, the same was happening here. The Gryffindors had believed that he and Harry had broken up for a while, which was why they hadn’t been seen together, and, according to Blaise, the Slytherins believed the same. That was why he was receiving glares that were worse than any he had ever received before, they had thought he had returned to the Dark Lord's side, so not only was he a traitor, but now he was a double traitor. Brilliant.


	44. Chapter 44

Ignoring that the last few months had ever happened seemed to be much easier in practice than it should have been. Harry found himself around Draco more than ever (maybe there was a small part of him that was worried to take his eyes away just in case), they would spend time studying in the Library together (much to Hermione’s delight), they would eat dinner together (taking it in turns to eat at the Gryffindor and Slytherin tables) and they spent their weekends together. Most of the time they were in the Room of Requirement, cuddled up in front of the fire and exchanging long luxurious kisses that had been sorely missed in the previous months.   
  
Mid-January Draco turned to Harry after one of their sessions of cuddling and kissing and had announced, in a grave voice that Harry recognised to be his ‘no nonsense, don’t argue with me’ tone, “I think we should try to find that tiara.”  
  
Harry looked at him for a long second. He noticed the way the fingers on his left hand were curled into his palm, his knuckles white from the effort of trying not to let the pain in his arm affect his outward countenance. Harry didn’t really know how he did it, he was in pain day after day and the only indication of it was the way he clenched his fist closed as tightly as possible.  
  
“Okay.” Harry agreed. He knew that they would need it eventually, he just hoped they could ignore everything for just a little longer. A few weeks wasn’t nearly enough time to move past everything that had happened.  
  
They started the very next day, taking advantage of the lighter course load that they had been set (which would very swiftly increase when January was over) to spend their evenings trawling through the floor to ceiling piles of junk that filled the Room of Requirement. When they had first entered the room together Harry had stared at the cavernous room that seemingly had no end, with his mouth wide open in awe. Draco had simply sneered at an old and half destroyed book that toppled to the ground at his feet when the door slammed shut behind them.  
  
“I’m not surprised you were having trouble finding something in all this mess.” Harry said while approaching a small pile stacked up to the height of his elbow.  
  
“Well I’ve searched about an eighth of this room, maybe less, and that took me two months. So I think this is going to take us a while.”  
  
“This has got to be like finding a needle in a haystack.”  
  
“Impossible? Yes, I’m aware.” Draco squashed the urge to kick at a broken trunk, it’s lid was half hanging off and it was supporting the weight of six or seven other trunks which were perilously stacked on top.  
  
“Where did you leave off?” Harry asked, and he followed Draco closely as the blonde slowly began to pick his way through the piles of old and broken rubbish to the point where he had stopped searching the last time.  
  
“What did you do last time?” Harry asked once they were in new untouched territory.   
  
“Revelio Malum.” Draco cast firmly, he scanned his wand up and down the closest pile of items. At first nothing happened, and then Harry noticed a slight glow in the centre of the pile.  
  
“It detects dark magic,” Draco explained, “Whenever something containing dark magic is located the item glows. Then we have to carefully levitate all the items on top of it to see what it is.” Draco ended the spell but the glow continued, “I had a few landslides last time.”  
  
“Should be easier for the two of us.” Harry’s smile was encouraging, but it didn’t seem to be working on Draco who continued to look at him thoroughly unimpressed.  
  
So the search started. Harry continued to be encouraging, leaving Draco to cast the detection spells and lending him a hand with a few well placed wingardium leviosa’s whenever an item started to glow from the dark magic detection spell. It only took three days for Harry to lose the wide encouraging smile that was beginning to grate on Draco’s nerves just a bit. He had half a mind to send Harry out to spend some time with Ron and Hermione just so that he didn’t have to look up at that almost too-wide smile every five minutes. When day three hit Draco was almost happy to find that Harry was finally looking as defeated as he felt.   
  
“Okay, we definitely need a miracle.” Harry said as he collapsed back onto a sofa that had one leg missing and was tilted precariously to one side. The further back they got in the room the further it seemed to stretch on.  
  
“I think we’ve made it to the sixties.” Draco nudged a single forgotten shoe with his toe. The white leather of the knee high boot and the chunky heel was practically a sixties calling card.  
  
“You know muggle fashion?” Harry smirked slightly from his reclined position on the half broken sofa.  
  
“Darling,” Draco drawled, in a tone that Harry hadn’t heard in a long while and it made his stomach curl in pleasure, “I know  _ all  _ fashion.” They were silent for a minute, and Harry budged up slightly so that Draco could perch on the edge, right next to his hip.  
  
“I have no luck when it comes to stuff like this.” Harry admitted, “My luck seems to only extend to not letting me die.”  
  
“Harry!” Draco exclaimed suddenly, “Luck!” He laughed joyously and leaned down to press a solid kiss to Harry’s stunned mouth without explaining himself further.  
  
“Er...Okay?” He stammered, although he didn’t stop himself from gripping the back of Draco’s neck and pulling him back down for another laughter filled kiss.  
  
“You stupid, stupid, genuis.” Draco mumbled against his mouth.  
  
“Okay?” Harry questioned once again, wondering if Draco was going to share his apparent epiphany.  
  
“We’re done for today.” Draco said and he stood up for a split second, only to rearrange his limbs and settle himself leisurely over Harry’s hips.  
  
“Are you going to tell me what that was?” Harry asked when it seemed like Draco wasn’t going to stop kissing him to explain.  
  
“Luck, Harry.” Draco said, as though it was obvious, “Felix Felicis.” Oh, Harry thought, yes that probably should have been obvious.  
  
Day four of their search, after spending a couple of hours in the library so that they could complete a particularly brutal Defence essay from Snape, had Harry and Draco stood side by side in front of the closed door of the Room of Requirement, facing the acres of trash that had built up over the past century.  
  
“Just a drop Harry, it’s potent stuff.” Draco said when Harry uncorked the tiny vial of golden liquid, “And I have a feeling it will be very useful in the future.”  
  
“Enough for an hour.” Harry said, and he allowed a single drop to fall onto his tongue.  
  
Draco watched in intrigue as the potion began to take effect, Harry’s shoulders relaxed, his arms began to swing loosely at his sides and a wide easy grin overtook his previously stressed features. Draco had only seen him looking like this after a particularly good round of sex, he was suddenly very interested to know how it felt to be under the influence of such an interesting potion. Harry scrubbed a hand through his hair and then paused with his fingers still buried in the inky mess on the top of his head.  
  
“I wonder if there’s a comb somewhere in here. You’re right you know, my hair really is a mess all the time.”  
  
“A comb? Harry, we need to find the tiara.”  
  
“Not to worry, I just need a comb first.” Then Harry began to wander through the stacks of items, moving further and further away from where they had been searching. Draco followed behind listlessly, trying desperately to get Harry to stop walking for a second and focus on what they actually needed.  
  
“Don’t worry Darling.” Harry said once or twice. And Draco was forced to follow along in silence, with his arms crossed and a scowl planted firmly across his face. The minutes passed slowly, and Draco was practically pulling his hair out of his head as Harry wasted those minutes stopping and starting, poking about in various stacks of items looking for a damned comb.  
  
“If I can’t find a comb do you think a wig would do?” Harry laughed and looked over his shoulder at a scowling Draco.  
  
“Really Harry? A wig?” Draco looked unimpressed and Harry just shrugged and continued walking, suddenly veering off to the right and leaving Draco to hasten to follow him.  
  
“Hey look,” Harry said and by Draco’s estimate they must have been wandering around aimlessly for at least half an hour, “A wig. That’s pretty cool isn’t it.” He grinned at Draco and approached the ratty looking item, if he even tried to put that on his head Draco would definitely hex him, liquid luck be damned. He should have known it wouldn’t work, Slughorn was normally a very competent brewer, but Felix Felicis was an extremely complicated potion, “Almost as if I was looking for one.”  
  
“We weren’t looking for one, we were looking for a tiara.” Draco ground his teeth together as he stamped out the urge to hex Harry. He knew it wouldn’t really work anyway, they couldn’t really cast spells on each other anymore after all. Maybe he could just cut to the chase and punch him in the face instead?  
  
“There’s a tiara there.” Harry pointed to the top of an old cabinet without taking his eyes off the wig that he was picking up.  
  
“Put that down!” Draco pointed at the wig, and then finally turned his attention to the tiara that Harry had pointed out. It was definitely old, and fairly discoloured, the diamonds were hazy and smoky and needed a good clean, but Draco could tell that it would have been utterly vibrant and beautiful in its time.  
  
“You’re no fun.” Harry pouted, “So is that the right one?”  
  
“Revelio Malum.” Draco cast. The glow that the tiara gave off was the brightest that Draco had seen to date. There was some seriously dark magic being contained within it, “Yes, I think it is.”  
  
“Great!” Harry’s arms wrapped around his waist from behind and his nose found its way to the back of Draco’s neck, “Is it time for you to get lucky now?” Harry purred as his mouth made its way to the soft spot behind Draco’s right ear.  
  
“You know Potter, I think it just might be.” Draco turned around in Harry’s arms.  
  
“You might want to transfigure us a bed.” Harry kissed him softly, “Or a sofa.” Harry caught Draco’s bottom lip.  
  
“We’re in the room of requirement. Just think of one.” Draco murmured against Harry’s mouth. Harry laughed, and then he toppled them over to the side, just in time for a mattress to materialise underneath them and catch their falling bodies.  
  
“Lucky fucker.” Draco laughed breathily.


	45. Chapter 45

Harry felt like barely any time had passed at all when January ticked over into February. And with February came the one day that Harry was the least prepared for, Valentine's Day. All Hogsmeade trips had been cancelled since the Dementor attack, so Harry wasn’t even able to leave the castle to find something for Draco. Last year he had managed to order something from one of Lavender and Pavarti’s magazines, but since Ron had dumped Lavender they were both treating him with a cold shoulder, and wouldn’t even talk to him, never mind lend him one of their precious magazines. It wasn’t like he could top last year's gift, he had saved Draco’s Mother from Malfoy Manor, stealing her out from underneath Voldemort’s non-existent nose and getting away with it. He couldn’t think of anything that could top that.  
  
“I’m so screwed.” Harry’s forehead was resting on the desk in the Library and he didn’t need to look up to know that Hermione was tutting at him and silently judging him.  
  
“You’ve had loads of time to find a gift Harry, why do you always leave everything to the last minute?”  
  
“I could get him chocolates sure, and books, not a problem, but I’ve done all that before. This year needs to be special, really special, you know we never managed to get each other Christmas gifts?” They had both been embarrassed by that, and both had felt guilty, up until they managed to fuck each other to an inch of their lives on the evening of Christmas Day, taking it in turns to bottom until they were both sore from head to toe and totally fucked out to the point of collapsing boneless across the bed.  
  
“He’s been studying the effects of ingredient potency on certain potions.” Hermione said.  
  
“I know.” Harry looked up from the desk in confusion, he wondered just how that piece of information could be remotely helpful in this predicament. Hermione sighed at him and Harry had to wonder if exasperation was always her go to emotion whenever she thought he was being particularly dense.  
  
“What I mean is, some potion ingredients are very rare and very expensive. It would be very difficult for him to get hold of certain items.” Harry remembered Draco lamenting over that very fact just a couple of days before,  _ money isn’t the issue of course,  _ Draco had said,  _ but all the money in the world couldn’t give me venom more potent than a Boomslang and I think for sure that increasing the potency of the venom could increase the healing ability of the potion. Just think Hermione  _ (because Draco was more than aware that Harry was looking at his mouth and wasn’t actually taking in anything he was saying),  _ the ability to heal people on the spot, it takes hours for even the most effective potion to start working.  
  
_ “Right. Well, that’s a start.” Hermione rolled her eyes at him.  
  
“If you aren’t here to study then could you please go away, I really have to concentrate on Arithmancy and you’re just distracting me.”  
  
“Yeah, I’m going.”  
  
“And go find Ron, I’m sure he hasn’t finished that Charms essay, remind him it’s due in two days would you?” She looked back down at the parchment in front of her almost immediately after she finished talking. It gave Harry a chance to look down at her fondly.  
  
“Yes Hermione.” He smiled and did as she requested, leaving the Library on the hunt for Ron.  
  
x  
  
Finding out exactly which potions ingredients that had the right balance of usefulness and wow factor quickly became a constant source of annoyance for Harry. Whenever Draco started to wax lyrical about whichever potion he was considering tampering with (since he changed his mind almost daily), Harry would try his best to memorise the ingredients that Draco was reeling off with breakneck speed so he could jot them down later. It was proving to be a useless endeavour, Draco mentioned them so quickly that Harry could only ever remember the ones that were familiar to him, and he didn’t think Draco would have a problem getting hold of ingredients that made up any of the Hogwarts curriculum. He needed to find something new, something rare, something that would knock Draco speechless for a couple of minutes. He was probably way in over his head, his Potions knowledge was poor at best, he only ever learnt enough to pass his exams each year and then the knowledge was quick to flee from his memory. The Half-Blood Prince’s textbook had made some progress with his interest in the subject, but even then, he could hardly claim to know exactly what Draco was talking about whenever he started talking.  
  
That’s exactly why Harry found himself standing outside Slughorn’s office door, trying to pluck up the courage to actually knock. It had been Ron’s suggestion (“Just go bloody ask Slughorn for fuck sake Harry.” Harry forgave him for losing his patience, he had been moping about it for a couple of days after all), and Harry thought the idea had merit at the time. But now that he was waiting to actually talk to Slughorn he realised that he would have to sit through at least once cup of tea with the man and Harry wasn’t sure that questioning him on Potions ingredients was worth the hassle of having to spend time listening to the rest of the drivel that came out of his mouth. The thought of being empty handed on Valentines Day, and being on the receiving end of Draco’s frown was enough motivation to lift a hand and knock quickly on the solid wooden door.  
  
“Enter.” The response came almost immediately, and Harry could imagine Slughorn sitting in front of the fire in his office waiting for one of his precious students to pay him a visit. Which, he supposed, was exactly what was happening, as much as Harry wasn’t fond of Slughorn it didn’t stop the Professor from wanting desperately to add Harry to his collection. He wouldn’t be surprised if this visit was making Slughorn's dreams come true, he was sure that in a few years time (if they all got through this war alive) Slughorn would be telling the next lot of students that he was a close and personal friend of “ _ The Harry Potter _ ”.   
  
Harry pushed the door open and stepped inside. The office looked precisely how Harry would have expected it to had he bothered to ponder on it for more than three seconds. On first glance Harry could tell that Slughorn had definitely opted for opulence and comfort over practicality. Thick silk drapes half hid the windows, and an ornate couch, overstuffed and decorated with silk throw pillows, faced a large roaring fireplace. Beyond the couch and the fireplace was a large circular table, large enough to fill the cavernous space it had been set in. And then there was Slughorn himself, sitting behind a large desk with elaborate carvings and depictions across the front and sides. Harry thought it was really rather over the top, but then, Slughorn was an over the top person so it really did suit him.  
  
“Harry my boy!” The Professor's excitement upon seeing that it was Harry Potter who had entered the room was second to none.  
  
“Good evening Professor.” Harry said, he was trying not to wince at the over enthusiastic greeting.  
  
“What brings yourself down here? Certainly not to visit me, I’ve noticed that you haven’t once answered any of my invitations to the various dinner parties I have thrown. And I was most disappointed when you missed the Christmas party, it was quite the event.”  
  
“I know, I’m sorry Professor, I’ve had a lot of work this year and I thought I should really concentrate on my studies.” Harry didn’t add that half of the year he’d been too concerned with his Soulmate’s safety to think about anything past eating, sleeping, and trying to cling onto a passing grade in each of his classes. Not that Slughorn would remember any of that, to him, and everyone else Draco had always been there, hovering about in the background.  
  
“Well do come in, have a seat.” He stood from his desk and guided Harry to one of the large couches that stood in the centre of the room, “Tea?”  
  
“Er, no, thank you. I don’t think I’ll be able to stay for too long. I just had a couple of questions about Potions that I think you might be able to help me with.”  
  
“Oh I do wish you would, I just received this very special blend from an old student of mine who is visiting China. She was a very talented athlete when she was younger, she played for the Montrose Magpies in her day, although now of course she spends her time travelling the world, she never fails to send me a gift each time she visits a new country.”  
  
“Sorry Sir, but thank you for the offer.”  
  
“Oh well, maybe next time.” Slughorn fixed himself a cup and settled on the sofa to the left of him, “Fire away with those questions my boy, I do enjoy a scintillating Potions conversation.”  
  
“Well Sir, I remember you mentioned a while ago that you were experimenting with the potency of ingredients to change the effect of a potion.”  
  
“Ah, I am honoured that you would remember a conversation from so many months ago. I have indeed been meddling with certain ingredients, although nothing is yet ready to be tested on a live subject. It is truly fascinating.”  
  
“I agree sir, extremely fascinating. I’ve been looking into healing potions the most and I’ve noticed that a lot of them use various parts of magical and non-magical animals, snakes for one, dragons and spiders too.”  
  
“Yes, yes.” Slughorn seemed eager for Harry to get to the point.  
  
“Well I was wondering, if those ingredients could be substituted with a different breed of the same animal to increase the potency of the potion.”  
  
“Different breed you say?”  
  
“Yes sir. Rather than using, say, a common corn snake heart, would the heart of a Boomslang make a difference.”  
  
“This is all for academia I presume Harry? You’re not going to start messing around with Potions you don’t understand are you?”  
  
“Of course not Sir, purely for academics.”  
  
Harry had a sudden flashback to the memory that Dumbledore had shown him. A young Tom Riddle standing in Slughorn's office, asking about a subject that was so Dark Slughorn had felt the need to tamper with the memory before showing Dumbledore. Purely for academics, Tom Riddle had promised, but that promise had been as empty as Harry’s. There had been a time when Harry had only seen the similarities between himself and Voldemort, and he hated to add yet another thing to the mental list.  
  
“Well then, yes, I suppose so. In theory using a magical being over a non-magical being would affect the potency, but there may be more consequences to playing around with ingredients than you would expect.”  
  
“I’m sure.” Harry paused for a second, he still needed a direction to go in, “What about say-” Harry thought about one of the earliest lectures that Draco had given him on his new obsession, “The difference between snake venom. I know there are a few potions which use Boomslang venom, if there were a venom more potent would that make a difference?”  
  
“I have no doubt, maybe for the better, maybe for the worst. I’m not sure we’ll ever know the answer to that. I’m not sure there is a venom more powerful than the Boomslang, unless of course you have a Basilisk to hand.” Slughorn chuckled to himself and he took a sip of tea, “Are you very sure I couldn’t tempt you to a cup of tea Harry?” He continued on to say, as though he hadn’t just flipped Harry’s world on its head. Because Harry did have a Basilisk to hand, and it could just be the answer to his little problem.


	46. Chapter 46

Taking Draco down to the Chamber of Secrets wasn’t exactly the most romantic thing that he could have done for the evening of Valentines Day. In the morning Harry had presented him with a selection box of his favourite sweets and chocolates, which he had dug into with delight. Pansy had tried to sneak her hand in to steal one of his Ice Mice but Draco had swatted her hand away before she could make off with anything. It had made Harry laugh and his smile remained when Draco squeezed his knee fondly under the Slytherin table. After eating three of the chocolates and two of the ice mice that Pansy had her eye on, Draco pulled out a gift for Harry, it was a small box wrapped in a shiny silver paper and Harry carefully unpicked the Spellotape that kept it sealed and shook the box out into his hand.  
  
“It might be a bit too much but I thought, given recent events...Anyway, just open it.” Draco had said and he tried to hide his blush by busying himself with shuffling through the box that Harry had given him to find one of the toffees that he spotted at the bottom. Harry opened the box with a small smile, whatever it contained was causing Draco to be flustered, which rarely happened. Harry tipped the box up into his palm and a small brass compass toppled out. The brass was polished and shiny, and was engraved with a simple but pretty filigree pattern. The only problem was, the hand which was supposed to point North was pointing directly towards the East, in other words...it was broken.  
  
“It’s great!” Harry said, and after he said it he realised he might have been slightly over enthusiastic. Enough for Draco to notice in any case. Either that, or he was picking up on the complete confusion that Harry was feeling.  
  
“It’s not broken.” Draco assured him quickly, the words leaving his lips in a tumble as he tried to assure Harry that he hadn’t given him something which was faulty, “It points towards the thing you love the most.” Harry studied the small hand which was pointing to the East and he realised that it was pointing slightly above the East point of the compass, directly towards Draco who was sitting next to him.  
  
“It points to you.” Harry said, half as a question, half as a statement. Draco didn’t respond, he just blushed even more. The pink of cheeks carrying on down the length of his neck and disappearing into the collar of his school shirt, “Thank you.” Harry said earnestly and he leaned over to kiss Draco’s cheek.  
  
Although the day had started nicely Harry had a feeling that the end of the day could really go either way. Either Draco would love it, in some strange twisted, fascinated way, or he would be disgusted and annoyed that Harry had dragged him down into the depths of Hogwarts without warning him not to wear his best shirt. Which Harry realised Draco was wearing when he had met him on the second floor corridor before leading him to Myrtle's bathroom.  
  
“We seem to be in a girls bathroom, Potter.” Ah, so Draco definitely wasn’t pleased so far, Harry didn’t need to feel Draco’s emotions to know that was the case. The drawl of his voice and the downturn of the corner of his mouth spoke volumes.  
  
“Trust me?” Harry asked with a small smile as he led Draco to the sinks that stood in the centre of the room.  
  
“If I have to.” Draco grumbled slightly but he stayed standing next to Harry when he began to run his fingers along the taps and pipes of the central sink, “You’re fucking mental, you are aware of this aren’t you?” Draco pointed out, but Harry didn’t have to answer, his fingers finally found the tiny engraving of the snake and he let out a pleased little “A-ha.” When the light hit the tiny snake at just the right angle it almost seemed to shift under Harry’s gaze, so it was easy for him to imagine that it was alive in order to tap into his Parselmouth abilities.  
  
“ _ Open.”  _ Harry whispered. He didn’t look at the sink as it dropped, or the way the hole in the floor was revealed, he just watched Draco’s face. Watched as Draco went from looking slightly annoyed, to interested, to completely fascinated. Then as soon as the sink disappeared from view and the true scale of the pipe below was revealed Draco seemed to put two and two together. His hand flew to Harry’s bicep and he squeezed as hard as he could. Harry thought it was possibly to stop himself from swaying on the spot as he tried to form a sentence.  
  
“This is…” He began to say, but the rest of his words died before he could even vocalise them, he was staring down in awe at the pitch blackness that lay below them, “We’re going…”  
  
“Up for it?” Harry asked.   
  
He certainly hoped the answer was yes, he had dragged Ron down there a few days before just to make sure that they could actually reach the chamber. The last time they had been down there there the whole ceiling had caved in and there was barely enough space for a twelve year old Harry and an eleven year old Ginny to squeeze through, never mind two people of Harry and Draco’s size. They had managed to stabilise the ceiling with a few spells and had cleared enough debris to make it through to the chamber. Harry had kept his fingers crossed when he had opened the vault like door at the other end, he really hoped that there wouldn’t be a half rotted corpse of a massive fifty foot snake on the other side of the door. There wasn’t. The snake lay across the floor exactly as it had fallen almost four years ago, it was perfectly intact, with the sword wound through the roof of its mouth still looking as fresh as the day Harry had stabbed it, though it had stopped bleeding long ago. Harry wasn’t about to look a gift horse in the mouth, he had been hoping for a few bones and teeth to be intact, maybe a bit of flesh and some of it’s old shed skin, but not the entire snake.  
  
“Stasis charm maybe?” Ron had theorised while walking around the dead snake in awe, “Fuck mate, this thing is massive.”  
  
“Looked even bigger back then.” Harry had replied while crouching down in front of its massive wide open jaws to get a closer look at one of its fangs, the other one absent after it had caught in Harry’s arm and ripped from the roof of its mouth.  
  
"Yes, of course." Draco readily agreed. He took a half step forward, barely more than a shuffle, and stood with the tips of his shoes overhanging the pipe, the inky blackness below betraying nothing about what would await him if he were to jump.  
  
"It's not just a drop, it's more like a slide." Harry said when he felt Draco's trepidation, "Take a deep breath and jump. I set up a soft landing." Ron had reminded him at the last minute that Draco probably wouldn't appreciate landing in a pile of rodent bones.  
  
"You did this when you were twelve? Do you have any drive to stay alive at all?" Draco's sarcasm was thick and Harry could only laugh, it was a conversation they circled back to many times, Harry's inability to prioritise self preservation.   
  
Draco lowered himself down onto the edge and with one last deep breath he pushed himself off and began the long slide down to the deepest part of the castle. Harry watched him go, the darkness swallowed him up in less than a second and Harry had to imagine his reactions to the twists and turns that lay ahead in the pipe. He waited a minute and then followed Draco. By this point the darkness below was almost familiar, he hadn't been down enough times to know exactly when the pipe would twist and turn, but it no longer surprised him when his body jerkily veered in one direction or another.  
  
There was a light at the end of the tunnel, Harry didn’t know why it surprised him, it’s not like he expected Draco to stand in the pitch black until he arrived. He landed on the transfigured cushion at the bottom with a solid thump and an “offt.” He sat there for a second, giving his brain and his balance a chance to catch up with him after his journey down. Draco had cast a Lumos Maxima, and the orb of light was raised high above their heads, shining down on them and casting everything else into elongated dark shadows against the far walls. Draco was standing at the line of bones, the point at which Harry and Ron had stopped vanishing the bones of the various rodents that had found their way down there to die.  
  
“You didn’t need to clean this place on my account.” Draco said with a smirk, Harry could see the profile of his face from where he sat on the giant cushion, “I had wondered what you were using such a massive amount of magic for a couple of days ago, glad to see you haven’t formed another illegal defence group.”  
  
“Without inviting you? Not a chance.” Draco approached him with a small half smile. He held his hand out and hauled Harry to his feet.  
  
“I assume this isn’t the Chamber of Secrets?” Draco correctly guessed as he looked at the half pile of rubble in front of them, and the plain stone walls around them, “Salazar Slytherin had at least a modicum of taste.”  
  
“What makes you say that?” Harry asked, he gestured to the path he and Ron had carved out and allowed Draco to take the lead, the light above them followed as they walked forwards.  
  
“Just look at the Slytherin Common Room, it’s designed very tastefully. Not like that Tower of yours, far too cluttered and overbearing.” Draco stopped in his tracks, he looked around at the floor around them, “Is that…” He trailed off and without another word he veered a couple of steps off the cleared path, “Snake skin?” Draco asked in wonder. The old shed skin lay discarded all around them, and Draco knelt down on one knee to examine the pearly white skin that was layered over almost every available inch of the floor, barring the path that Harry had cleared a couple of days ago, “Harry, that snake must have been…” Draco paused to follow the topmost layer of skin with his eyes, “Fifty feet, at least.” He turned to Harry with his eyebrows raised and his mouth hanging open in surprise, “How did you manage to kill a fifty foot snake? When you were twelve!?”  
  
“I don’t really know, there was a sword, and a lot of panic. I was mostly just hoping I wasn’t going to die.” Harry rubbed a hand through his hair in embarrassment as Draco continued to look at him in that gormless awestruck way that he was so used to getting from other people. He would have pointed it out to him, but calling Draco gormless would only have put him on the receiving end of a mild stinging hex and a cold shoulder.  
  
“Well I’m rather glad you didn’t.” Having realised exactly how he was staring at Harry he managed to wipe the awed look off his face and quickly stand up, dusting off his knees in the process, “Onto the Chamber?”  
  
It only took them another minute of walking to reach the vaulted door, decorated with the engravings of snakes. With a single hissed word the vault door unlocked with a grinding sound of old metal against old metal, and it swung forwards to allow them access to the large vaulted chamber it was hiding.  
  
“Harry…” Harry wasn’t even sure that Draco knew he had breathed out his name, allowing the syllables to fall from the end of a sharp exhale. The only sound in the Chamber, apart from their footsteps, was the steady drip of water from the ceiling into the small moat. The face of Salazar Slytherin rose from the water as though it was carved from the very stone that Hogwarts herself was sat upon, and in front of him, lay the Basilisk. Looking every bit as formidable dead as she had been alive, formidable but impressive, with her emerald green scales and her wide open mouth which showed each and every one of her razor sharp fangs. Harry was almost sad to see her body laid out like that, looking back now he wished that he hadn’t had to kill her, she had been a beautiful creature.  
  
“This is why you brought me down here?” Draco asked, he was slowly approaching the dead snake and Harry followed him quietly, “To show me a Basilisk. This is...Incredible.”  
  
“She was female.”  
  
“How could you possibly know that?” Draco asked. He was walking the length of the snake with his hand hovering inches from her body, tracing the curves of her corpse without actually making contact with the cool scales, “It doesn’t look like it’s been dead for four years.”  
  
“Female snakes are bigger than the males, I read that only the Females can reach fifty feet in length. Granted, only a few have ever been known to exist, but that’s what the book I found said.” Harry leaned against the closest pillar, folding his arms across his chest as he watched Draco inspect the animal from head to toe.  
  
“Ron reckons there’s stasis charms on the Chamber. It makes sense, she would have needed to eat a lot more than mice and rats to keep herself alive, and the couple of times she was released from the Chamber she never ate anyone, which meant she wasn’t physically hungry.”  
  
“Yes, I can understand that.” Draco finally reached the head of the snake, it was as big as Draco was tall, with her eyes being on the same level as his shoulder and her fangs the length of his forearm, “Not that this isn’t entirely fascinating,” Draco said, while leaning forward to look into the bloody mess that used to be a pair of deadly golden eyes, “But is there a reason you brought me down here on Valentine’s Day?”  
  
“I know that the Potion you and Hermione created last term has sparked an interest in adapting Potions, increasing the potency and what-not. So I thought, I kind of have a snake rotting away in a basement that no one has access to, maybe she could be put to some use.”  
  
Draco stepped away from the Basilisk's fangs to lean around her head and stare at Harry over her body in shell shocked silence. His mouth had fallen open, as though he couldn’t quite find the right words to say. Harry could feel his every emotion, the problem was untangling them, something which he wasn’t great at in the best of times, shock came through pretty clearly, confusion and amazement followed, everything else passed by so quickly that Harry couldn’t pick anything out of the haze that Draco had let pass through their connection.  
  
“But it doesn’t belong to you? I mean, surely she belongs to Hogwarts?”  
  
“I think that she would belong to the last living descendent of Slytherin. But I don’t really want to know what Voldemort would do with the body of a Basilisk, the thought of him having access to the venom alone paints a pretty dark picture. Apart from him, no one else can even get down here, so maybe I am taking a few liberties, but I did kill it after all and it seems only fair that I should decide what to do with it.”  
  
“Right.” Draco said. He was still staring in awe at the giant curving body in front of him and Harry could tell that he was still a little speechless, “And your Valentines present to me...Is the corpse of a Basilisk?”  
  
“Yeah.” Harry simply said, and followed it up with a solid nod.  
  
“For me to do what I please? Potions and research and such?”  
  
“Pretty much.” Draco was walking back down the length of the snake now, glancing between Harry and the snake as though he was scared that one of them would move. Harry watched him move, loving the way his bright eyes flicked between staring intensely at the animal, to looking over at him with fond appreciation. He loved the way Draco’s long fingers hovered over the body of the Basilisk, following the line of her massive body, tracing every dip and curve that he came across without once needing to make contact. It was reverence, Harry realised, he was treating her with the respect an animal like her deserved, she was as ancient as she was rare and Draco was making sure to take that into account while he inspected her. Draco took one last look at the body of the snake before turning to Harry, he walked straight to him, stopping only when their bodies collided and Harry’s back thumped against the stone pillar behind him. Harry let out a pained “Offt” but still wrapped his arms around Draco’s shoulders and hugged him tight, trapping Draco’s arms between their chests and leaning his cheek against his temple.  
  
“You’re insane.” Draco murmured against his neck, “You’re giving me a dead Basilisk for Valentines Day, that’s absolutely mental.”  
  
“Is that okay? I mean, it’s a lot, I’m well aware it’s a lot, and completely over the top. But-” Draco cut him off with a kiss.  
  
“It is a lot, and it is  _ completely _ over the top. But it’s also amazing.” Draco wormed his arms out from between them so that he could wrap them around Harry’s waist, holding him just as tightly in return, “What about the rest?”  
  
“The rest?”  
  
“Slytherin’s study,” Harry blinked at him blankly, wondering just what the hell he was talking about, “Most legends say that Slytherin built the Chamber to contain his monster, but there are a few that talk of his intent to keep his research and his true nature a secret from the other three founders. We’re all told that Gryffindor, Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw became suspicious of Slytherin, but not many people know that Slytherin became suspicious of the other three. He didn’t trust them, and he was right not to, since they kicked him out of the school.”  
  
“So you’re saying that there’s a study somewhere down here?”  
  
“There  _ must  _ be. Have you seen any doors? Or any openings?” Harry thought back to that time in second year, when the mouth of Slytherin opened to allow the massive snake to slither out to face him.  
  
“Maybe.” Harry said, he released Draco and approached the mouth of the huge floor to ceiling statue that filled an entire wall of the Chamber, “ _ Open.”  _ Harry hissed after taking a second to imagine that the large snake behind him was moving rhythmically to the bobbing light above their heads. Nothing happened.  
  
“Was something supposed to happen?” Draco asked as he approached him from behind, joining him in staring at the face of the statue.  
  
“The mouth opens. Tom Riddle opened the mouth when he set the snake on me.”  
  
“That has to be where the study is, it would be just like Slytherin to build a study inside his own statue. What did he say to release the snake?” Harry thought for a few seconds, it had been a few years ago but the event was so imprinted on his memory that he didn’t think he could forget even if he tried.  
  
“Speak to me Slytherin, greatest of the Hogwarts four.” He said in a loud even tone just as Tom Riddle had all those years ago.  
  
The stone mouth started to move, opening wide enough for a fully grown adult man to walk through. The moat in front of the mouth parted as a stone dais rose from beneath the water, giving them a platform to walk across. Harry and Draco looked at each other, silent in the cavernous room, as the sound of the grinding stone finally stopped.   
  
“After you.” Draco said with a motion of his hand.  
  
“Oh cheers. Yeah, after you, into the cavern of potential death.” Harry joked. Draco rolled his eyes but smiled warmly at Harry as the Gryffindor stepped onto the raised platform and with careful steps he disappeared through the mouth and into the dark room that lay beyond. 


	47. Chapter 47

As Draco had predicted, the room that was hidden inside Slytherin’s head was in fact a study of some sort. After casting another Lumos Harry’s first impression was a simple one, the room was massive. Almost as big as the chamber before it. Despite its size, all of Slytherins possessions seemed to be confined to a small section towards the back, the rest of it was left empty. Room for the Basilisk, Harry realised when he noticed the belly tracks across the dusty floor.  
  
“I can’t believe I was right.” Draco said. Harry had been so focussed on the trails on the floor that he hadn’t noticed Draco following him into the room. Harry scoffed at that statement, he above all people knew that Draco usually didn’t say something unless he was fairly sure he was going to be right.  
  
“Okay then, I can believe I was right. But that doesn’t mean that I can’t amaze myself sometimes.” Draco shrugged.  
  
“You amaze me all the time, so at least I’m not the only one.” Harry smiled over at him and allowed him to lead the way to the back of the Chamber, Draco was trying to ignore the flush on his cheeks but it didn’t go beyond Harry's notice.  
  
“Can you imagine the knowledge locked away down here.” Draco went straight to the bookcases, “I can only imagine how much some of these are worth.” He was careful not to touch the spines of the books, half worried that they would crumble to dust under his fingers.  
  
Harry had gone in a different direction, opting to see what was on top of the single writing desk in the room, “I think this was written by Slytherin.” The parchment on the desk had been left unrolled, weighed down at either side by two snakes carved out of silver, inlaid with emeralds for eyes. A quill sat off to the side, left on top of the desk carelessly, Harry could even see a drop of ink staining the wood under the tip. It felt like they had interrupted a frozen moment in time. Harry leaned close to the parchment and with extreme care he brushed the dust off the first few written lines. Despite its age he was able to read it as clearly as one of his own essays.  
  
“I am found,” Harry read, “My presence is not to be endured by my companions. I believe I may soon be cast out of this School.” Harry paused as Draco came to his side to read over his shoulder, “My name will remain, and my students will reign.”  
  
“You can read that?” Draco asked in surprise.  
  
“What do you mean? Obviously I can read it, I can read you know.” Harry teased, Draco had been ribbing him a little about the dip in his grades so the statement wasn’t so far south of what Draco had been playfully saying for the past month or so. They were working hard to bring both of their grades back up to scratch.   
  
“No Harry, I mean, I  _ can’t  _ read it. There’s nothing there, it’s complete nonsense.” Draco looked down at the parchment, he had heard of various Muggle languages that used non-Latin alphabets, had even come into contact with them once or twice in Ancient Runes, but he had never been able to speak or read any of them. What he was seeing now was definitely not written in the Latin alphabet.  
  
“I read something without releasing it wasn’t English? But that only happens when I speak Parseltongue.”  
  
“Written Parseltongue?” Draco suggested. The letters had a curvature to them and by that alone Draco could believe they were the written version of the rare snake language without needing any confirmation.  
  
“It must be.” Harry said, fairly stunned at this new development. He didn’t even know how he managed to speak Parseltongue, now all of a sudden he could  _ read  _ it. He wished he could say that it was impossible, but he had learnt that magic made a lot of things possible.  
  
“This is amazing! Don’t let it worry you too much Harry. Think of what we could learn down here!” Draco was grinning widely and Harry couldn’t stop himself from kissing him softly on the mouth. There was no point in even denying that he was worried about it because he knew it was too late to hide that particular emotion from Draco. Another ability that made him stand out from anyone else? Just what he needed.  
  
“I think we should bring Hermione down. And that trunk I gave you for your birthday.” The trunk which was charmed to be much larger on the inside than the outside.  
  
“We may as well buy a couple of trunks, bigger ones, besides if I take those books out where would I even put them? Harvesting the snake alone will take up a lot of space. We'll need appropriate containers and I'll need to research the proper spells for that kind of work.” Draco glanced around at the bookshelves around them, “Honestly, Harry, next time just buy me a book. Your presents are always such hard work." He was kidding of course and Harry could only laugh in response and kiss him on the temple. Harry would have been apologetic, but he could feel Draco's delight and enjoyment at the entire situation. Not only was he seeing a part of the castle so hidden that all of Hogwarts previous headmasters couldn't locate it, but he was also being given the chance to experiment with parts of a Basilisk, and to top it all off, he had access to one of the oldest hidden libraries in Britain with texts that only two living people could currently translate. One of which happened to be standing right by his side. Harry knew that for Draco this was like winning the lottery, he was in a Slytherin heaven. Peeling him away would be the biggest problem.  
  
“I think we should probably give the books back to the school.” Harry pointed out, “If they belonged to Slytherin then they belong to the school.”  
  
“Surely that would apply to the snake as well?” Draco teased with a small smirk and a raised eyebrow.  
  
“I’m pretty sure that the books will be more useful to the school than a forgotten corpse.” Harry pointed out, unwilling to admit that maybe Draco was a little right on that front. He wasn’t about to hand such a valuable commodity over to someone else, especially if he wasn’t sure if they could be fully trusted. Basilisk parts in the hands of Snape? No thank you.  
  
“Fine, the books go to the school. You should keep the Parseltongue ones though, I bet there are a few in here. No one else can read them anyway.” Harry agreed with him, “But Hermione and I get to look through them first, before you go all noble on us and tell Dumbledore.”  
  
“Fair enough.” Harry grinned at him, “We should start heading back up, it’s getting late and I didn’t bring the cloak.”   
  
“Oh, but-” Draco tried to complain, and his eyes darted around wildly at the huge array of bookcases as he tried to take in everything they had to offer.   
  
“We can come back down at the weekend, I’ll OWL order some expanded trunks and you can look into containment.” Harry took Draco’s elbow and gently steered him away from the desk and books and back towards the entrance, “We’ll bring Ron and Hermione too.”  
  
“And Blaise and Pansy, Blaise can help with the snake. Pansy can help with the books.” Draco added, finally turning away from the small library that he had been staring at wistfully.  
  
“Sure.” Harry said with a shrug. If they wanted to get everything done by the end of the year, and not fail their end of year exams, then they would need the extra hands. Maybe Draco was right, maybe next time he should just buy him a book.  
  
They passed back through Slytherins mouth, and when they were cleared of the narrow platform that had risen from beneath the moat there was the familiar sound of grinding stone, and when they looked back the mouth was closing and the platform was disappearing once again. They walked past the massive snake to reach the exit, and Harry had to tug on Draco’s hand a little when his steps began to slow, just so he could get one last look at the magnificent beauty laid out before them. The vault door that led to the Chamber closed behind them with a clang of metal against metal and then they were on their way through the underground tunnel, heading back to the Pipe that would take them back up to Hogwarts.  
  
“Will you show me what happened in Second year?” Draco asked suddenly. Harry had been so focussed on trying not to think about the shadows that the Lumos Maxima was creating (the shadows coming from the piles of translucent snake shed made it look like the room was filled with giant snakes surrounding them) that he hadn’t noticed Draco ruminating on the question. Harry felt his hesitation, and his reluctance, but he smoothed Draco’s fears by smiling slightly and nodding. He wanted to share everything with Draco eventually, might as well start with one of his near death experiences. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My chapters on Docs look so long, but on here they look so short hahaha. This is 6 pages long, if you can believe that lol.
> 
> Love you all, and I love all your wonderful comments, I read them all and they make me feel warm and fuzzy inside :)


	48. Chapter 48

The complete intact corpse of the Basilisk had taken everyone but Ron, Harry and Draco by surprise. Hermione had stood off to one side, with her hands covering her mouth and her eyes wide and fixated completely on the massive dead snake that covered almost the entire floor of the Chamber of Secrets. She refused to step closer and Pansy stood next to her, with her head tilted slightly to one side as she followed the lines of the snake's body with her eyes. Harry wasn’t sure if she had the same aversion to the snake as Hermione had, or if she was just standing by Hermione’s side in solidarity. Either way, he was sure that neither of them would move closer without the other one following too. Blaise had been the biggest surprise of the lot, he had walked the perimeter of the Basilisk twice, all while Draco was unpacking one of the trunks unloading the various vials, bottles, and preservation tools that he had ordered the day after Harry had shown him the Chamber. He was unrolling a massive stack of long wax coated cloths, to be used for preserving the snake hide when Blaise approached him.  
  
“You plan to remove the hide?” He asked.  
  
“Yes, I plan to. I’ve brought a book, I think there’s a few spells that we can try-” Draco had barely fished out the large book out of the bottom of the trunk when Blaise raised his wand to the Basilisk. He slashed his wand through the air in three broad strokes and a long strip of skin separated from the rest and slid to the floor at their feet. It was easily ten feet in length and half a foot across, and, upon inspection, Draco could see that it was beautifully cut away from the flesh below, perfect for preservation.  
  
“How the bloody hell do you know how to do that?” Ron asked from where he had been standing next to Harry, still staring at the Basilisk in trepidation. He hadn’t liked the idea of carving up such a rare animal, bordering on desecration he had said. It had taken Draco dragging his research up from Slytherin to show Ron all the things he could do with the various parts of the snake, “ _ I could improve healing potions!”  _ He had exclaimed passionately while showing Ron his methodology behind a new and improved Burn Salve. So the redhead had reluctantly agreed with a sigh and a frown.  
  
“There’s more to magic than what we are taught.” Blaise replied with a shrug.  
  
“That’s disgusting!” Hermione cried out from where she was standing, still a good few meters away from everyone else. Her hands had flown from her mouth to cover her eyes to shield herself from having to see the flayed flesh.  
  
“I don’t know, it’s not so bad.” Pansy said from her side as she watched Draco pull on a thick pair of gloves, “Just don’t expect me to touch it.”  
  
“Oh God, Harry please, show me the books.” Hermione begged blindly.  
  
“Alright Hermione, come on.” Harry took hold of her elbow gently and led her around the Basilisk and towards the mouth of the statue. She didn’t remove her hands from her eyes until she knew that the snake was a safe distance behind them and completely out of her peripheral vision.  
  
“I never realised...How big it was…” Hermione’s sentences were fractured and halting as she tried to put into words exactly what she was thinking, Harry had some idea of where she was going with it, Draco and Ron had reacted the same. If the evidence wasn’t in front of them he was sure that no one would have believed a twelve year old could take down a fifty foot mythical snake.  
  
“I know Hermione.” Harry smiled and motioned to the narrow bridge that emerged out of the water, allowing her and Pansy to cross first, “It’s okay.”  
  
“Do your thing. I think I’m going to keep the Parselmouth ones for now and the rest are going back to the school.” She nodded and quickly stripped her jacket off her shoulders as she headed straight to the closest bookcase.  
  
“Am I going to regret this?” Pansy asked Harry as they watched Hermione pull off the first book she could reach, she was looking at the tomes with a hunger in her eyes that Harry had only seen a few times throughout their six years at Hogwarts. He didn’t blame Pansy for being apprehensive, Hermione could be scary when she got into this state.  
  
“Probably.” Harry grinned at the Slytherin girl who was watching Hermione with a small grimace as she realised exactly what working side by side with Hermione was going to entail, “But you can tap out and help us out there at any point.”  
  
“No thanks,” Pansy raised a hand to show Harry her bright purple fingernails, “I’ve only just done my nails.” Then she walked over and joined Hermione at the bookcase. Harry just shook his head in mirth and went back out to the others.  
  
In his absence they had already got halfway through skinning the snake. Blaise was walking back and forth, slashing his wand through the air in hypnotic motions and allowing the skin to fall at his feet. Draco and Ron were collecting the long sections one at a time, Harry could see that Draco was marvelling at whatever spell Blaise was using, every now and then he would bend close to the hide and look at the edges of the cuts, clearly impressed by the precise spell work. Ron on the other hand, was trying not to look too closely at what he was doing, he was rolling up the sections of skin between the long swaths of waxed cloth that Draco had bought for this very purpose, but was looking a little green around the gills while doing it. Harry wondered whether it would be a good idea to suggest that Hermione needed a hand, if only to allow Ron to take a break from the large snake carcass that was slowly turning from a perfectly preserved snake to something really rather horrific. The removal of the flesh was uncovering the thick muscle that was hidden beneath, and Harry had to agree with Ron that it wasn’t the best sight.  
  
“Harry, do you want to start on the teeth?” Draco asked, and then Harry noticed the long pair of pliers that he was holding with an almost too eager grin.  
  
“How about you deal with the teeth,” Harry suggested, he had been up close and personal to those fangs one too many times, “And I’ll help Ron.”  
  
“Okay.” The enthusiasm that Harry was feeling through their connection was probably just a little on the scary side.   
  
“Just watch out, they’ll still have venom in them.” Draco smiled fondly at him as they passed each other, Draco on his way to the Snakes wide open mouth and Harry to Ron’s side. Where his pale and slightly green skin was clashing terribly with the shock of red hair on top of his head.  
  
X  
  
The following few weeks of Hogwarts life passed in a very similar way. Monday to Friday the six of them attended their classes as usual, and spent their evening completing coursework and revision. Then on one of the weekend days they would sneak back down into the Chamber of Secrets, trying their best not to be obvious about six students disappearing into a girls bathroom for hours at a time. Their time in the Chamber was spent preserving the Basilisk, and organising the small library that Salazar Slytherin had hidden away from everyone. Hermione’s system was faultless, unfortunately, she was the only one who could understand it fully. The floor had undergone extensive cleaning charms and Hermione had brought with her a stack of white sheets which she laid carefully across the empty floor before she would even consider placing any book down. As the organisation progressed, and the neat stacks of books on the floor grew higher and higher, Harry was quick to notice that Hermione’s “read first” pile was growing at a much steadier rate than the rest.  
  
“Is it important that you read about-” Harry tilted the closest book towards himself so he could read the title, “ _ Exploring the roots of Yggdrasil.”   
  
_ “Of course it is. Yggdrasil is supposed to be completely mythical, do you know what would happen to modern religion and culture if it turned out to be real?” Hermione answered, without even looking up from the book she was pouring over, “Now stop judging me. Your nonsense pile is over there, take them and go away.” She waved her hand non-committedly at the only stack that couldn’t have been any more than three or four books tall. She was joking of course, Harry knew Hermione well enough to know when she was just being a little bit salty because he could read something that she couldn’t.  
  
“Cheers.” Harry grinned at her, although she still didn’t look up from whatever book was succeeding in holding her attention for so long. He was far too used to her to be at all bothered by her attention span.  
  
“What are they about?” She finally gave him an ounce of attention when she noticed him reading the titles and placing them to one side.  
  
“This one’s about Necromancy,” Harry put the top book to one side, “The Black Arts-”  
  
“That doesn’t narrow anything down.” Hermione commented.  
  
“Ancient Demonology, and the last one, Curses and Binding spells.”  
  
“Almost tame in comparison to the rest.” Harry flicked open the cover to see a perfectly labelled diagram of a human body twisted and contorted at every joint.  
  
“I don’t think there’s anything tame about this.” Harry turned the book around and even though she couldn’t read the labels Hermione was perfectly able to identify the deformed human body. She grimaced in reply.  
  
“Binding-” Harry opened the book at a random page halfway through, “Soul Binding, Forced Binding,” He read, flicking to each chapter, “Binding Amulets, Binding Symbols-”  
  
“Wait!” Hermione exclaimed, “Binding Symbols…”  
  
“What?” Harry asked in bewilderment as he flicked back to the chapter. Hermione put down the book she had been holding limply between her hands and moved over to Harry’s side. She tried to lean over his shoulder to read the chapter title, momentarily forgetting she wouldn’t be able to understand a word of it.  
  
“Harry,  _ Binding Symbols _ .” She exaggerated and when he still looked at her blankly she repeated it once again, “ _ Parselmouth _ Binding Symbols.” She gripped his left arm and turned it over so she could motion towards his inner forearm, right where Voldemort always placed his Marks.  
  
“The Dark Mark.” Harry murmured under his breath.  
  
“Exactly.” She breathed and she looked at the book as though it held all the answers to all of life's questions.  
  
“Do you think Voldemort got hold of this book and based the magic off the mark off this spell?” Harry asked as he ran his fingers across the words.  
  
“I think it’s possible.” Hermione said.  
  
“But he couldn’t even get in here, this is where the Basilisk was kept.”   
  
“He let it out a few times, he would have been free to explore this study while the snake was going around the school.”  
  
“Do you think he would have left this in here?”  
  
“He was only a student, he might not have even come up with the idea for the Dark Mark until he left Hogwarts. It’s possible he read this when he was younger and based the Mark off it.” She gestured to the book, Harry could see that she was getting a little frustrated with being unable to read it, “Besides, he probably had to close the Chamber really quickly after the Basilisk killed Myrtle, he might not have wanted to risk opening it back up again while he was in school.”  
  
Harry looked at the book that lay open on the desk in front of him, could this really hold the counter spell to the Dark Mark? Could he actually help Draco? His hands shook slightly as he closed the book and tucked it under his arm.  
  
“Don’t mention it, okay? I don’t want to get anyone’s hopes up.” Hermione nodded sagely and squeezed his arm once more before letting go and watching him head out of the hidden study, making his way back to the others who should be almost finished with the preservation of the Basilisk. Hermione was looking forward to not having to skirt around the massive beast to get to the library.  
  
“How’s it going?” Harry asked Ron and came to a stop by his side. He was suddenly very glad that he was already head over heels for Draco, he wasn’t sure the image of Draco and Blaise levitating a giant snake heart into an even bigger glass container filled with some sort of fluid would leave his mind's eye for at least a good few weeks.  
  
“Just the heart, then they’re done.” Ron commented, he had lost the green tinge to his skin around the third time they had taken the trip down to the Chamber, but he still looked disgusted every time he had to go anywhere near it, “You know this is pretty sick, right?” Harry did know, and he also should be a little worried about how gleeful Draco looked when he finally put the glass lid onto the jar and sealed it with a spell.  
  
“I know.”  
  
“And Malfoy looks far too happy to be elbow deep in snake guts.”  
  
“I know that too.” Harry chuckled. He should be concerned, but the only free time Draco had to devote to his research was the hour or so before bed and he had become increasingly more excited the closer they got to finishing off their harvesting of the Basilisk. Harry regularly opened the curtains to his bed to find Draco sitting against his headboard, parchment and potions books surrounding his legs, he would shift everything to one side to allow Harry to sit next to him and then he would shove a parchment full of notes under Harry’s nose to explain exactly how important the perfect preservation of the Basilisk’s lungs could help the development of an asthma curing potion.  
  
“Lovely dear.” Harry would say placatingly and would slowly begin to stack everything up on his bedside table as Draco continued on with his long tirade of the proper weights and measurements of Basilisk skin and Basilisk ground fang and Basilisk venom. When Harry watched him, gleeful grin and all, looking through a glass jar to stare at a giant snake heart, it was easy for him to understand why Draco was so excited by all of this.


	49. Chapter 49

Before they could blink they were already in the middle of March, Harry wasn’t surprised the weeks had passed by so quickly, they had spent a long time down in the Chamber. All the books were finally categorised and stored carefully away in the trunks that Harry had bought and were stashed under Ron’s bed until Harry’s next meeting with Dumbledore. The Basilisk parts were all perfectly preserved and stored away inside the two trunks that were hidden underneath Harry’s bed (Ron had outright refused to sleep over the spare parts of a Basilisk). Draco would have taken them down to the dungeons but it seemed too risky, someone was still spying on him.  
  
Harry only remembered the flash of the boy’s face who had been killed in the Malfoy’s Gold Dining Room. No one at Hogwarts had paid a missing student any mind, believing that he had simply been pulled from the school without anyone notifying his head of house. Harry had sent a note to Dumbledore, explaining that there was another student, younger than the first, who had been contacted by Voldemort, but for the life of him he couldn’t remember a first or last name of anyone involved in the vision. So the subject had been left to rest and Harry had tried to keep a close eye on Draco ever since (not that he needed to try too much, Draco was by his side more often than not).  
  
With March, came the Gryffindor versus Hufflepuff Quidditch match, a match which the Gryffindors won by a landslide and before the team could be whisked up to the Common Room party (with Draco Malfoy in tow) a small Ravenclaw second year caught him as he left the changing rooms and passed him a folded note.  
  
_ Tomorrow 8pm.  
_ _ I quite enjoy Toffee Eclairs.  
  
_ "Are you taking the books?” Draco asked later that evening as he lay naked underneath Harry’s sheets. His pale skin was marked with small light bruises that could only come from the nip of someone’s teeth. Harry had to resist the urge to once again follow that path down Draco’s body, he had already taken the trip twice that evening and he wasn’t sure he could even get hard again after what Draco had wrung out of him. It was nice to lay next to him through, caressing the soft skin that stretched over the curve of his ribs and the sharp jut of his hip.  
  
“Yeah, I’ll take the books and the tiara.”  
  
“You might as well let him know about the cup too.” Draco said and then he stretched underneath Harry’s hands and the meeting was forgotten about as Harry, once again, pressed his mouth to Draco’s jaw and followed the line of his chin with the very tip of his tongue. Draco let out a happy carefree laugh and shoved his hands back into Harry’s hair so he could hold the Gryffindor against his neck. But it didn’t escalate, they were too lethargic and lazy. Harry just let himself fall boneless against Draco’s chest and accepted the embrace that Draco was offering, his mouth was anchored to the soft skin of Draco’s throat and his body blanketed Draco’s. He felt wonderful like this, hazy, sleepy, soft, and warm. Snuggled in with Draco who had one arm wrapped around his shoulders and the other one scratching patterns across his scalp.  
  
“Love you.” Harry murmured into Draco’s neck, with his eyes closed and the prospect of sleep taking over him.  
  
“I love you too.” Draco whispered fondly.  
  
X  
  
“Hi Harry.” The airy voice pulled him right out of his daydream, he was on his way to Dumbledore's office but he couldn’t really stop thinking about Draco. He rarely could stop thinking about Draco if he was completely honest.  
  
“Oh, hey Luna. How are you?” Harry smiled at the Ravenclaw girl who had stopped skipping down the hall and had come to a halt in front of him.  
  
“Just fine thanks, although, I think someone took all my shoes again.” Harry quickly glanced down at her feet to see that she was indeed skipping around the school barefoot. Harry was glad it was March, if it were a month earlier he would have been worried about her feet dropping off from the cold. Even with the sky still glum and foggy the spring was definitely arriving, pushing away the last vestiges of snow that clung to the craggy rock that Hogwarts sat upon.  
  
“I’m sorry, do you need any help finding them? I have a meeting with Dumbledore now but afterwards I could help you.” Harry suddenly felt very guilty, he had called Luna his friend at the beginning of the year but he had hardly spent any time with her. He silently vowed to invite her to sit with them the next day at dinner.  
  
“No it’s okay, they always turn up somewhere. Besides, I feel connected to Hogwarts this way, her magic is very calming.” Her bare toes curled against the stone.   
  
“As long as you’re okay.” Harry smiled at her but she just cocked her head to one side.  
  
“You know there’s something in your bag that’s whispering to you?” Harry didn’t know how she could stay so calm while saying the weirdest of things, “It’s not saying very nice things.”   
  
Harry slowly reached into his bag, his hand bypassed the shrunken trunks full of books and landed on the lockbox that contained the tiara. He hesitated for a split second and then pulled it out, he trusted Luna enough to know that she wouldn’t speak a word of this to anyone. They hadn’t shrunken it, worried how the extra magic would affect the dark magic within, and it was big enough to completely cover his palm and his fingers. He flipped the lid open and looked down at the old tiara, covered in clouded diamonds and various precious stones. He turned it around so that Luna could see the contents. Harry hadn’t even looked at it since they had taken it from the Room of Requirement, but he couldn’t pull his eyes away from the silver halo and the bright blue stone that sat in the centre.  
  
“That’s funny.” Luna said and she leaned in closer to look at the item that Harry was holding.  
  
“Funny?” Harry asked.  
  
“It looks just like Ravenclaw's long lost Diadem.” She reached out a single hand, “She charmed it herself you know, to grant the wearer with wisdom.” Her voice sounded a lot further away than it usually did. Before the fingers of her outstretched hand could make contact with the large gem in the centre Harry snapped the lid of the charmed box shut, blocking out as much of the dark magic as it was able to and shielding it from Luna’s view. Luna flinched and withdrew her hand quickly. She glanced between Harry’s face and the wooden box he was stuffing back into his bag, her eyes darting up and down in quick succession as the dark magic continued to call to her, muffled though it was through the charmed case.   
  
“I don’t think it’s a good idea for anyone to touch it.” Harry warned.  
  
“It’s full of dark magic,” Luna said with a small nod of understanding, “Very dark magic, I can feel it calling…” She stared at the box again, only returning her eyes to Harry’s when he shoved it back into his bag, “Rowena Ravenclaw wouldn’t like what her diadem has been turned into.”  
  
Harry quickly calculated the possibility, Slytherin’s locket he had already seen in Dumbledore’s memories, Hufflepuff’s cup Draco had already retrieved from Gringotts, it wasn’t so far out of the realm of possibility that Voldemort had somehow got hold of Ravenclaw’s long lost Diadem.  
  
“Luna,” Harry grabbed her by the shoulders and pressed a joyous kiss to her forehead, “You’re a bloody genius. I’ve really got to run, but thanks.” Harry let go of her shoulders and walked around her, “Seriously, thanks!” Harry began to jog down the hall, leaving the younger Ravenclaw staring after him with a small smile playing across her face.  
  
X  
  
“You managed to re-enter the Chamber of Secrets?” Dumbledore asked calmly while he sat at his desk with his fingers steepled under his chin.  
  
“Yes Sir.” Harry answered while staring at the floor and rubbing the back of his neck. Dumbledore hadn’t said anything condemning or approving of his actions, but Harry felt that there was an undercurrent of significant disapproval to his questioning.  
  
“And you encountered Salazar Slytherin’s personal study?”  
  
“Yes Sir.” Harry repeated. The trunks full of books were sat at his feet, enlarged from their shrunken state. He hadn’t mentioned the Basilisk. He didn’t want to be forced to give up the ingredients that Draco was so excited about and he didn’t want to tell Dumbledore what Draco was planning on doing with them, Potions experiments carried out by anyone but a trained Potions Master was highly discouraged.   
  
“I thank you for giving them back to the school.” Harry also didn’t mention the trunk of books that Hermione had kept for herself, it felt a little like stealing but he was sure they would find their way back to the school library at some point. Hermione was usually very concerned with following the rules, except when it came to her books.  
  
“They don’t belong to me so I thought that Hogwarts was their rightful place. Hermione sorted through them, one trunk seems to be mainly restricted section material, the other trunk should be suitable for the main library.”  
  
“Smart young Witch she is.”  
  
“That she is Sir.”  
  
“Harry,” Dumbledore placed his hands flat on the desk and motioned for Harry to take a seat opposite him, up until that point Harry hadn’t even realised that he had still been standing. He sat heavily, “I expect this meeting to be a rather short one this evening. Professor Slughorn is still refusing to part with the real memory of his conversation with the young Tom Riddle. I am sure I do not need to stress the importance of receiving that memory.”  
  
“No Sir.”  
  
“I do not like to put something like this in your hands, you already carry a heavy load on your shoulders, but I believe you are the key to acquiring that memory.”  
  
“Because you think that Slughorn might know how many Horcruxes Voldemort made?”  
  
“I believe so.” Harry shoved his hand into his bag once again and pulled out the charmed box. He had hesitated in giving it to Dumbledore before, preferring to bring up the Chamber of Secrets first. The tiara had been sitting in his trunk for the past two months, it was a weight that he had shuffled past every morning and night when he opened his trunk, and for some reason he was finding it difficult to hand it over. He felt comforted that it was safe and contained, he knew that in his hands it wouldn’t be misused, because he would be able to protect it until it was time to destroy it.  
  
“What do you have Harry?” Dumbledore asked carefully. Harry’s body jolted upright, he had been slowly sinking lower and lower in his seat with his hand buried in his school bag holding onto the case that contained the dark magic of the Diadem.  
  
“We found one Sir.” Harry said finally, “We found two actually.” Harry stood up and placed the box on Dumbledore’s desk, “Ravenclaw’s Diadem, it was in the Room of Requirement, and Hufflepuff’s Cup was in the Lestrange vaults in Gringotts. Draco found it before we came back to Hogwarts after Christmas but we left it in Grimmauld Place for the time being.”  
  
Dumbledore’s hands, one old and wrinkled and the other black and withered, carefully turned the box so the discoloured tiara was facing him when he opened the lid. He inspected it for a long time, but he didn’t touch it, he simply moved the box this way and that, lifting it up to his eyes so that he could inspect every jewel across the circle of silver coloured metal, and placing it back down in front of him so that he could look at it for another minute longer. Harry’s hands clenched in his lap when Dumbledore lifted the box, he wanted to keep his eyes on the piece of jewellery, he needed to know it was safe.  
  
“Right under our very noses. Risky Tom, very Risky.” He murmured to himself. Harry cleared his throat, just in case the older Wizard had forgotten he was even there.  
  
“I believe that you are under the thrall of this Horcrux Harry.” Dumbledore said plainly.  
  
“What? No, definitely not.” Harry denied vehemently, shaking his head from side to side without taking his gaze off the large diamond that had enthralled Luna earlier.  
  
“Then why can you not take your eyes off it?”  
  
“I just...Need to make sure it’s safe...Secure. I have to make sure it’s secure.”  
  
“Rest assured Harry, it is secure with me.” Dumbledore closed the lid and quickly whisked it away out of sight, placing it into a drawer and locking it tight with a wave of his hand. Harry blinked a couple of times when it was finally out of sight, somehow he felt like an unknown weight had been lifted off his shoulders.  
  
“It is a lot to ask Harry, but if you could help me retrieve that memory then we can proceed with these lessons. Until then, there is simply nothing more I can show you.” Dumbledore continued, as though the introduction of the Diadem was nothing more than a minor interruption to his previous train of thought.  
  
“Do you want me to use my fame Sir?” Harry asked. He wasn’t the best at using his fame for anything, Draco told him it was one of his flaws.  
  
“I want you to use anything that you have at your disposal. Anything that would capture the interest of a man like Horace Slughorn.” Dumbledore looked at him over the rim of his glasses, his blue eyes twinkling madly with a hidden secret. At that moment Harry realised Dumbledore knew all about the Basilisk, knew that they had spent weeks preserving her parts, knew exactly what Harry could use to gain favour with the Potions Master.  
  
“Yes Sir.” Harry smiled back and he wouldn’t have been surprised if his own eyes had that very same twinkle that Dumbledore’s were sporting.


	50. Chapter 50

Harry was standing outside of Slughorn’s office once again. He had spoken to Draco about it the moment he had finished meeting with Dumbledore, “ _Take what you need._ ” Draco had said to Harry’s request, “ _But don’t hand it over until he gives you what Dumbledore needs._ ” So Harry had taken a little of everything and had gone down to the Potions Master's office with his pockets full, ready to hand over the rare ingredients for the memory that was so vital to winning the war. Harry was sure that a Potions Master like Slughorn wouldn’t turn down the chance to experiment with ingredients harvested from a Basilisk, that’s even if he did experiment with them, Harry wouldn’t be surprised if he kept them on a shelf and showed them off to everyone in his circle. He was a collector after all. Unfortunately the whole transaction hinged on Slughorn being able to keep his mouth shut on where he had acquired the parts, Harry had to hope that he was as tight lipped about that as he was about this memory he was holding onto so desperately.  
  
“Come in!” Came the call from the other side of the door. Harry entered into the same room as last time, coming face to face with grand furniture and opulent wall hangings.  
  
“Harry!” Slughorn stood from his desk and threw his arms wide, as though he was greeting a long lost friend, “How wonderful to see you again. Come in, take a seat. Tea?”  
  
“No thank you Sir.” Harry said. He sat on the sofa to the left of the fireplace, opposite another matching sofa with a solid and intricately carved coffee table sitting between them. After a moment the Professor joined him, floating a tea set behind him and setting it to one side.  
  
“To what do I owe the pleasure my boy, it has been some weeks since our last chat hasn’t it. I daresay, did you ever find an answer to your query? You were interested in the potency of potion ingredients, were you not?”  
  
“Ah, yes Sir. I did figure it out, thank you.”  
  
“Brilliant, brilliant. It is a joy to see someone as talented in potions as yourself flourish under their own research.” Harry didn’t want to tell him that the only reason he was doing well in the subject was a combination of Draco’s brilliance and the Half Blood Prince book that he still used in every class (under Draco’s watchful eye and Hermione’s glare).  
  
“Actually Sir. I’m here on business for Professor Dumbledore.” Slughorn visibly sobered up, he placed the teacup and saucer down on the desk with far less care than he should have done, the tea splashed out over the side and onto the coffee table, “I’m sure you’re aware Sir, that Professor Dumbledore is a mentor to me and he’s been teaching me a great many things this year.”  
  
“Has he so.” Slughorn’s response was clipped and Harry had a feeling he was about ready to send him away.  
  
“I know there is something he wants from you Sir. But I believe that I can offer you something in return. Something that I am sure you will want.”  
  
“I’m sorry Harry, I’m not sure I know what you are speaking of. Merlin, is that the time! Surely you should be getting on your way now.” The portly man made to stand but Harry pulled the first jar out of his pocket. It was one of the largest by far. Tall enough to almost stick out of the deep pockets of his school cloak, and wide enough for the circumference to fit neatly in his palm, with his fingers almost meeting around the outside of the glass. Harry placed it in the centre of the coffee table.  
  
“I say, what is that?” Slughorn asked. His curiosity got the better of him, he paused halfway through standing up and stared down at the glass jar that Harry had placed between them. A piece of tightly rolled snake hide filled the entire container, merely a cutting of what Draco had to hand, a few inches wide and half a foot long. The vibrant green of the scales seemed to almost hypnotise the Professor into taking his seat once more, and he sat heavily onto the couch without removing his eyes from the jar.  
  
“That, Professor, is a piece of hide from a Basilisk.” Harry said matter of factly, as though it was something that a person would come across on a daily basis. He was trying to keep his tone light, the products he had to hand would hypnotise the Professor far more than his words ever could.  
  
“A Basilisk? Surely not Harry.” He withdrew his hand quickly, which had been halfway to touching the jar, but still he continued to stare at the overlapping emerald scales shining through the glass. The shade of green shifted as the candles in the sconces and the fire next to them flickered.  
  
“I wouldn’t lead you wrong Sir.” Harry said.   
  
“Basilisk’s are entirely Mythical, and there hasn’t been a verified sighting of one in over a thousand years.” Slughorn announced, sounding entirely unconvinced. Harry had thought that news of the Basilisk would have spread out of Hogwarts like wildfire, he hadn’t realised that Dumbledore and the Board of Governors had done such a good job at clearing up the gossip. He supposed that parents wouldn’t have been very happy to find out their children had been attending school with a massive mythical snake roaming the halls and probably would have had something to say about their children returning to such a school.  
  
Harry pulled out a photo, one that he had borrowed Colin’s camera to take before they had begun to harvest from the snake, it had cost him his signature on a stack of photos that Colin had produced with a gleeful grin (the younger boy had been practically vibrating from happiness when Harry handed over the last signed photo). The picture he handed to Slughorn was of the Basilisk, Draco had needed to levitate him almost up to the ceiling for him to get the entire snake in the shot. Standing next to it were Ron, Blaise and Draco, it was impossible to figure out who they were from the angle of the picture but with their presence it was possible to see the scale of the Basilisk.  
  
“An illusion, surely.” Slughorn murmured to himself. He was looking at the photo using a Lumos to examine it properly, the dim light of his chambers were great for ambience, but not great for making out fine details.  
  
“No illusion Sir. A Basilisk that I fought and defeated. I’m sure you remember the old Legends about Slytherin building a secret Chamber within the school?”  
  
“The heir alone would unleash the horror within.” Slughorn whispered to himself.  
  
“You knew the heir Sir.”   
  
“I’ve met a descendent of Slytherin? Oh only if I were so lucky. They would have been a great addition, a great addition indeed.” He chortled to himself.  
  
“Lord Voldemort Sir,” Slughorn flinched so violently that his knee knocked against the table, sending another wave of tea flying out of the dainty cup and across the table, “Although, at the time, you knew him as Tom Riddle.”  
  
“I knew nothing of the sort.” Slughorn quickly defended himself, “When he was a student he was nothing more than a talented boy with an eye for Potions.”  
  
“No, of course not Professor, no one would ever accuse you of that.” Harry reached into another pocket, and retrieved the next item. A single fang stood upright in a small glass vial, sealed and stoppered with a charmed cork. Harry had taken the smallest one but it was still the size of his forefinger.  
  
“Oh my, oh my, oh my.” Slughorn murmured under his breath. He picked the vial up and held it up to the closest light, the root of it was meticulously cleaned and polished from the preservation spells.  
  
“Professor, no one knew what Tom Riddle was capable of. No one knew that he would use the Basilisk to kill a girl.” Harry continued to say, he wasn’t ashamed to use the Professors passion for collecting to distract him into speaking on a subject he had tried so hard to avoid.  
  
“Miss Warren. She showed no promise in my subject.” Slughorn remembered absentmindedly as he looked into the vial, almost as if he was rattling off the only fact that he knew about her. Harry supposed that if you weren’t one of his chosen students then he didn’t pay you much mind, “Of course the poor girl didn’t deserve to die.” Slughorn quickly backtracked as he realised what he had said.  
  
“Of course not Sir.” Harry conceded.   
  
“But Tom Riddle, the Heir of Slytherin,” Slughorn continued, as though Harry hadn’t spoken at all, “A brilliant, bright student. So very promising, such a future ahead of him. No one could have known how his life would unfold. If only we had known.” Slughorn suddenly looked over at Harry, as though remembering that he was sitting there, “He had a thirst for knowledge, and he asked me about the most complicated of magics. How was I to know he would carry them out?”  
  
“You weren’t to know Professor. But you see, we know what Tom Riddle turned into. And Dumbledore knows how to stop him, but he can’t do anything until he has your memory.”  
  
“I couldn’t possibly, Harry.” And Harry suddenly saw Slughorn for what he was, an old man, almost as old as Dumbledore (though he hid it well), so scared of being irrelevant that he lived off the fame and success of his students, claiming their fame as his own.  
  
Harry pulled out the last vial. It was the smallest of the three, tiny, about as big as the vial that held the remainder of his Felix Felicis, and was filled with a viscous yellow liquid. Basilisk venom. Harry placed it beside the other two. It had been the hardest for him to part with, it was easily the most valuable and had been the hardest to harvest.  
  
“I think you know what this is, Professor.” Harry said when Slughorn could barely tear his eyes away from the tiny stoppered vial, “And I’m sure you know what it’s worth.”  
  
“Priceless.” Slughorn murmured absently, in complete awe of the tiny vial and its contents.  
  
“To me, it’s worth that memory.” Harry said, and that seemed to be the kicker.   
  
Slughorn looked at him, staring across the table as though he was no longer looking at a student, he was looking at an equal. He was finally coming to realise the power that Harry had access to, the person Harry must become for the war to come to an end, “I’m the only one who can end this war. It will be me against Voldemort, no one else. And I would really like all the advantages I can get. If you give me that memory Professor, I might not die.”  
  
“You mustn’t judge me Harry.” Slughorn reached into his robes without looking away from Harry and pulled out an empty vial, “Tom Riddle was a great student, one of my favourites, and I had no idea what would come of this knowledge. I wasn’t to know what he would become.” His wand came away from his temple with the familiar shiny stand of memory attached to the end of it.  
  
“Sir,” Harry took the vial from his shaking hand and put the cork into the top of it, “If you’re looking for forgiveness,” The old eyes of his Potions Professor looked at him across the coffee table as his bigger hands fell away from the vial, leaving it in solely Harry’s grasp, “Then consider this your act of absolution. I forgive you Professor, you’ve done the right thing. No one but me and Dumbledore will know what you said to Tom Riddle that night.”  
  
X  
  
Harry and Dumbledore came out of the Pensieve simultaneously, and as per usual Harry’s feet landed heavily on the floor causing him to stumble back into the chair that he had placed in front of the Pensieve for that very reason. He was getting used to this Pensieve business.  
  
“Seven Horcruxes, like Ron said. Do you think he did it Professor?” Harry asked, once he had caught his breath from the weird transition between the Pensieve world and the real world.  
  
“I have no doubt Harry.” Dumbledore swept his ropes around himself and sat down behind his desk, “Thanks to yourself and Mr Malfoy we are two closer to our goal.”  
  
“The diary, ring, diadem, cup-” Harry ticked off on his fingers, “The locket which we haven’t found yet. That’s five. Two more then Sir?”  
  
“I am inclined to believe that he was only able to create six, and the seventh part of his soul remains within his body.”  
  
“That’s brilliant though, right? We’ll only need to find the Locket and then one more and we’ll have destroyed them all.”  
  
“Yes, Harry, quite.” But the words were clipped and quiet, lost of all the jubilation that Harry would have expected from such news. The old Headmaster was looking at Harry as though all of the bad decisions in his life were crashing together at this singular moment in time. He was staring at Harry with eyes so dull and lifeless that Harry’s smile slowly fell from his face. He didn’t know why, but finding out there were only two Horcruxes left seemed not to be the blessing that Harry had expected it to be. Dumbledore knew something. Something that Harry didn’t know, and Harry knew his demeanor well enough to figure out that the elderly Wizard wasn’t about to share that knowledge with him. Not yet anyway.


	51. Chapter 51

Harry checked his notes once, twice, three times. And then rechecked Hermione’s notes in the same manner. It had taken some effort for them both to reach the point where they believed they had found the correct spell in the Parselmouth book. Since Hermione hadn’t been able to read it, it had taken long evenings of back and forth, of Harry reading out passages and Hermione making notes. She really was Harry’s biggest research tool (not to reduce her worth by any means) but not being able to lean on her really was testing his abilities. He supposed he should get used to doing some of this by himself, Hermione wasn't always going to be there to hold his hand.  
  
It had taken them up to the last week in April and Harry once again couldn’t believe that another whole month had passed them by, he felt like the days were passing from one blink to the next. With the increasing amounts of school work that was being piled onto them in preparation for their NEWT year, Quidditch practices in which they were gearing up for their last match of the Season, spending time with Draco, the extra Apparition lessons that had only just ended, and finding time to meet with Hermione for this project, Harry wasn’t sure how he had managed to fit everything in. He was actually glad that Dumbledore hadn’t sent him a note for another meeting, he already had too much going on. He had actually found himself using the planner that Hermione had given him for Christmas, Ron had scoffed at him when he saw him cross out a large section of Wednesday evening and write,  _ Transfiguration Essay _ , next to it during breakfast one day. He sent Ron away with a punch to the arm and wrangled a promise out of him that he wouldn’t tell Hermione, he didn’t want her to look at him with a smug smile and a _ “I told you it would be useful.”  
  
_ The time that he spent with Draco was his chance to switch his brain off and really relax, they studied together of course but Harry wouldn’t class that as “time together”. They continued to visit the Room of Requirement, requesting the cosy room full of sofas and armchairs. It had become their place, and Harry always enjoyed stepping into the room, especially on the odd occasion where Draco had arrived before him. When Harry stepped through the door Draco would turn around, craning his neck over his shoulder to send a wonderful smile in Harry’s direction. Harry’s stress would melt away at the first hint of that smile across Draco’s lips and he would fall into Draco’s arms without a care in the world. They would talk about the future, their school work, the upcoming NEWT year, about the Quidditch league, and about Draco’s extensive research. Whiling the hours away until curfew pushed them together towards the Gryffindor dorms, or apart, with Draco heading down to his bed in Slytherin House and Harry heading to Gryffindor.  
  
Today however, Harry had exciting news. He and Hermione hadn’t said one word to Draco about potentially being able to sever the bond between the Dark Mark and Voldemort. At first Harry hadn’t wanted to get his hopes up, and then afterwards he decided that he didn’t want to say anything until he and Hermione had figured out the correct counterspell. Now that he had that spell, written onto a piece of parchment and folded into the book that they had found it in, Harry finally felt confident enough to tell Draco.  
  
“No.” Draco said, refusing point blank the moment Harry had finished explaining himself. He had shown Draco the chapter in the book with a large self-satisfied grin and had laid out Hermione’s notes across the coffee table proudly.  
  
“But, you haven’t seen-” Harry pointed to a section of notes, the part that explained how the spell for the Dark Mark was based on the binding spell that they had found in the book.  
  
“No.” Draco took the Parselmouth book out of Harry’s hands and placed it down onto the table carefully, trying not to upset the parchment that covered almost the entire surface.  
  
“I thought you would-” Harry started to say, but Draco cut him off once again.  
  
“Harry, thank you for doing this for me and I love you for it. But no.” Draco took Harry’s hands between his own and looked down at where their fingers had entwined, in a bid to avoid those wonderful green eyes that stared at him in sad confusion.   
  
“This year I’ve taken a Potion that could have screwed my mind up so badly that I would have been a permanent patient in St. Mungos. Following that we both took part in a spell that could have not only completely drained our magic but we could have seriously fucked up everyone else’s minds and memories.” Draco paused for a moment and he took a second to squeeze Harry’s hands tightly, “I just think that taking part in another risky spell will push our luck just a little too far.”  
  
“It’s not that risky, this book is-”  
  
“A book which you found in Slytherin’s study, he wasn’t exactly known for his influence on light magic. And you say that you think the spell to create the Dark Mark was taken from this book, but you don’t know that, there’s not nearly enough evidence to prove that to be true.”  
  
“So, you really mean it?” Harry asked, his voice was quiet but Draco could feel his despair.  
  
“Yes.” Draco squeezed his hands once more before turning back to the book that he had put down when Harry had entered the Room of Requirement with all the excitement of a newly adopted crup puppy. Draco looked at him out of the corner of his eye but he didn’t say another word as Harry dragged his book off the table and stuffed it back into his shoulder bag.  
  
“I think I’m just gonna head back to Gryffindor for tonight.” Harry said as he collected up the parchments as quickly as he could and put everything neatly back into his bag.   
  
“Harry, wait, I’m sorry but-” Draco called out as Harry walked around the couch to get to the door he had only just walked through.  
  
“No, it’s-it’s okay. I get it, I just...forgot about something I was gonna do with Ron.” Draco knew that was a lie.   
  
“Harry!” Draco yelled after him, but the Gryffindor didn’t look back and the door shut behind him with a solid thud. Leaving Draco alone in the silent room, with nothing but the crackle of the fire for company.  
  
He sighed and ran a hand through his hair, displacing the spell that he had carefully applied before setting off from his dorm room that evening. He knew that Harry would get over it after a day or two, but he felt like he had to take a stand. Harry had been trying to fix everything all year, he needed to stop trying to fix everything and take the time to think about the consequences of using experimental magic. He knew that the last spell had snapped everyone's memories back into place, but he still felt people’s eyes on him in the Great Hall, as though they were trying to figure something out, something that didn’t quite fit with what they already knew. And his own memories, there were things that were so much clearer than they should have been, he could remember every single goal from the last World Cup match and who scored them, he could remember the kiss on his forehead when he had fallen off his toy broom when he was four, he could remember the first question on his first year Defence Against the Dark Arts exam.   
  
He knew that Harry and Hermione had put a lot of effort into finding the counter curse for him, but without knowing if there were any side effects he didn’t think it would be worth it. Draco pulled his sleeve up to look at the one thing causing all of this tension. He was so desperate to hide it from everyone that he barely ever saw it himself, preferring to change while in the bathroom, or behind the closed curtains of his four poster bed, or in the pitch black so that he couldn’t look down and see the thick dark lines marring his otherwise flawless skin. It was as red as the last time he had shown it to Harry, and the pain that the Dark Lord was inflicting through it had barely let up day after day. He knew the spell would be worth it if it worked, not being linked to the Dark Lord would be a massive relief, but it was too experimental and too unknown to risk it. There were consequences when spells weren’t cast correctly, he knew that more than anyone.  
  
“Draco?” The call from the doorway forced him to pull his sleeve down over his arm in haste.  
  
“Hermione? What are you doing here?” He regretted not locking the door after Harry. He wasn’t in the mood for another Gryffindor face off. Hermione had worked on the spell too, she would probably want him to test it as much as Harry did.  
  
“Harry.” She said in explanation and accompanied it with a small shrug.  
  
“Ah, he told you then?” Draco had expected as much, although he was surprised that she had come to see him so quickly, she usually left them to figure it out for at least a couple of days before stepping in and pointing them both in the right direction.  
  
“He did.”  
  
“And you’ve come to…?” Draco trailed off, leaving Hermione to fill in the blanks.  
  
“Tell you that you were right.” She walked further into the room and chose an armchair with a big pouf footstool in front of it. She had already changed out of her uniform and was swinging her jean clad legs up onto the footstool, crossing her ankles together and settling in.  
  
“You think I’m right?” Draco asked, just a little gobsmacked, Hermione and Ron weren’t always a hundred percent on Harry’s side, but it was rare that one of them would side so fully with one of them over the other, they preferred to stay as third party observers as much as possible.  
  
“Of course, half the magic we’ve performed this year has been experimental and you’ve been right in the middle of all of it. I’m not surprised you want to take a step back from it.” She smiled at him and then looked into the fire, absolving him from having to come up with an immediate answer.  
  
“He just...He wants to _ fix everything _ .” Draco said, frustrated with his daft Soulmate.  
  
“He does. He always has, it’s his hero complex.” Hermione shrugged a little, as though to say  _ what can you do.  
  
_ “I don’t need fixing.” Draco scowled and Hermione looked at him calmly.  
  
“You don’t want fixing, you mean?” Draco pursed his lips but didn’t answer, “I thought so.” She nodded as though she had uncovered his big secret, “You don’t think you deserve it.”   
  
“You think I don’t?” Draco snapped, but Hermione didn’t rise to it. Draco supposed that spending time around a hot headed Weasley and a stroppy Harry would give her nerves of steel.   
  
“I think you didn’t know what you were doing, and I think that you shouldn’t punish yourself for decisions made under duress.”  
  
“So you think I was right about the spell, but you’ve come to...what? Convince me to do it anyway?”  
  
“No, if you don’t want the spell then we won’t do the spell. But I do think that you should forgive yourself.”  
  
“If you thought all along that I wouldn’t want to do it, why did you bother helping Harry with the research?”  
  
“We’re in the middle of a war, I have a feeling it will be very handy in the future. Plus, like you said, Harry likes to fix things. He would have done it with or without my help, at least with my help the spell will work and won’t backfire.” They were silent for a few minutes, with Draco looking at Hermione with a questioning furrow in his brow, and Hermione pretending not to notice.  
  
“Is he angry with me?”  
  
“Of course not, he’s just licking his wounds. He’ll be fine in a day or two and he’ll see reason, that’s what you both do, right?” She smiled at him knowingly and he had to duck slightly so that she couldn’t see his answering embarrassed smile.  
  
“Right.” Draco agreed under his breath.  
  
X  
  
True to form, two days later Harry joined him at the Slytherin table for breakfast. Draco looked up for a moment but turned back to his eggs once Harry was settled next to him. The line of his thigh was warm and it pressed tightly against Draco’s under the table, sturdy and familiar.   
  
“I’m sorry if you thought I was pushing you into something you didn’t want to do.” Harry said first. His voice was low and he leaned closer to Draco as he spoke, in a vague effort to keep their conversation private despite the very public place they had chosen to have it in. And since Draco valued an appropriate amount of give and take when it came to arguments he was the next to speak.  
  
“I’m sorry if you thought I didn’t appreciate your effort.” Because he had appreciated it.  
  
“I’m sorry I stormed out.” Harry continued, obviously keen on absolving himself for all of his misdeeds that had come from their most recent disagreement.  
  
“I’m sorry I shut you down without telling you the whole story.” Draco knew that he had been hiding some of the side effects of the last spell from Harry, it had been worth it after all and he hadn’t wanted him to worry. But if Harry had known he might have been more hesitant to dive into another untested spell.  
  
“Forgive?” Harry suggested with a smile.  
  
“Yes.” Draco agreed and his hand found its way under the table to land on Harry’s thigh. His fingers kneaded into the jeans that Harry had chosen to wear to Saturday breakfast and his nails scratched against the rough denim. Harry’s knee nudged his own in return and he began to help himself to breakfast without moving any part of his body away from where it was pressed against Draco’s. Draco found that he really didn’t mind.


	52. Chapter 52

Harry wasn’t sure whether the Dark Mark was causing Draco more pain than usual, or whether he was more attuned to Draco’s struggle since he had turned down the spell. Harry had become rather adept at predicting when Draco’s pain would come to a peak and he always tried to be at Draco’s side for it. But lately the Pain was coming at random, hitting Draco like a punch to the stomach, rather than the slow build to an excruciating crescendo that they had come to expect. It caused him to trail off in the middle of sentences, and drop his quill in the middle of lessons, and stumble over his own feet as he walked down the Hogwarts corridors. All Draco could do was clench his eyes shut against the onslaught and brace himself against the nearest solid object, waiting for the pain to subside so he could function as a normal human being again. When Draco got to that state Harry felt rather hopeless, all he could do was cover the tattoo with the palm of his hand and murmur a cooling spell over the raw skin. It helped a little with the afterburn, even if it didn’t stop Draco from acutely feeling every moment of agony as it travelled up his arm.  
  
Once it had peaked while they were curled up together on a sofa in the room of requirement, and Draco had turned his head into Harry’s shoulder and had silently dry sobbed into Harry’s jumper. Harry could only wrap his arms around him, and gently hold him until he was alright again. That had been the moment Harry had realised the true extent of what Draco was going through. He had a true talent for stoicism around outsiders, even when he had to find a nearby wall to lean on in the middle of a busy corridor his face still remained cold and impassive, no one would know that he was standing there because his own legs refused to support his weight.   
  
Even though the pain was happening more frequently, and even though Harry absolutely hated seeing Draco trying to control it, he didn’t mention the counter curse again. He wanted to, so desperately, but Draco had drawn a line and interfering in the Dark Mark would be massively overstepping that line. So he continued to do his job as a dutiful boyfriend. He’d lend a hand whenever Draco needed to hold onto something to keep himself grounded. He would pull Draco to a hidden passage or a secret alcove when they were in the middle of a busy corridor, giving Draco the time and space to ride out the pain and centre himself. And each and every time he would cast a healing spell and a cooling spell over the area, it wasn’t much, but it was all he could do.  
  
But then came the Slytherins’ last match of the season. Slytherin versus Hufflepuff was usually a cakewalk for the Slytherin team, Harry didn’t think Draco had ever lost the Snitch to a Hufflepuff Seeker. If they wanted to stay in the running for the trophy, Slytherin would need to walk away with a win.  
  
“I’m going to be fine.” Draco said with a roll of his eyes as he strapped on his wrists guards, flashing Harry the briefest hint of his Mark for barely a second before he was tucking his sleeves in and lacing them up tightly.  
  
“It’s getting worse.” Harry pointed out, “What if it starts while you’re a hundred feet above the ground?”  
  
“I had an attack this morning, it’s never happened twice in the same day.” An attack, that’s what he called them, as though it was asthma and could be treated with a few puffs from an inhaler, that being said...Harry wasn’t sure if Draco even knew what an inhaler was.  
  
“I’m just worried about you.” Harry said quietly. He was leaning against the wooden post that led to the Slytherin changing rooms, Draco had come out for a quick good luck kiss but Harry had caught him for a few moments longer, voicing his concerns about Draco flying in his condition. He’d already had too many run ins with Quidditch accidents that year (Harry was including the fake one, although he knew it didn’t really count).  
  
“I know you are. But it’s going to be fine. Besides, I can’t drop out of the game we’ll never win. The Slytherin’s will have my head and half of them already hate me as it is.” Draco reached up to cup Harry’s jaw and he leaned in for a soft kiss, “Stop worrying over me, and go get a good seat. You’ll want the best view to watch me win.” He patted Harry’s cheek fondly and his grey eyes sparkled in amusement. Harry could only smile in return and turn to walk away, when he looked back a second later Draco was disappearing back into the changing rooms, his emerald green cloak billowing behind him as a gust of wind passed them by.  
  
“He’s going to play?” Hermione asked him in a low hiss when he finally reached the seat that Ron had fought life and limb to save for him, “Is he mad?”  
  
“I certainly think so.” Harry replied with a frown. Madam Hooch was just bringing the crate of balls onto the pitch and Harry leaned forward over the bannister, eagerly awaiting the flying parade of players who would soon stream in from both sides.  
  
“He won’t drop out, Slytherin won’t have a chance at winning. But it’d make things easier for us if he did.” Ron said. He was right, if Slytherin lost this match Gryffindor would only need to catch the Snitch in the next match to win, if Slytherin wins then Harry needs to wait until his team is at least a hundred and fifty points up before even attempting to catch the Snitch.  
  
“He could fall off his broom and die Ron, would you like that to happen?” Hermione snapped.  
  
“As long as he doesn’t catch the Snitch first, I don’t mind.”  
  
“That’s your best friend’s-” She glanced around, but everyone was too busy cheering on the Hufflepuff team to really pay attention to them, “Soulmate.” She finished in a half whisper.  
  
“Yeah? And this is Quidditch, it’s cutthroat, no holds barred, there’s no time or place for relationships. It’s just you and the ball.” Ron mimed reaching out and catching an imaginary Snitch with a look of reverence on his face. Hermione huffed and turned back to the pitch, just in time to wave at Draco as he soared past the Gryffindor section of the Stadium.  
  
“You understand though, right Harry?” Ron asked when Hermione refused to look at him again.  
  
“Yeah Ron,” Harry clapped a hand on his shoulder, “I understand.” Ron grinned, and then whooped as the Hufflepuff Chasers flew passed them in a perfect V formation.  
  
“Although,” Harry added, “I would really prefer it if my Soulmate didn’t fall off his broom and die.”  
  
“Well no, course not. No one wants that,” Harry wasn’t going to comment that it sounded like he was reluctantly squeezing out the words, “But accidents happen don’t they, this is Quidditch after all.” Harry just shook his head in amusement and watched as the teams fell into the circle formation that signalled the beginning of the match.  
  
“Hello everyone,” Luna’s voice carried over the crowds as she began to commentate the match, “Such lovely weather for a Quidditch match.” Harry looked up to the cloudy sky, he wouldn’t really call it lovely weather. He wouldn’t call any weather over the past year lovely, with the Dementors about in full force the only indication that it had changed from Winter to Spring was the slow melting of the thick snow. Even in May, there was barely any warmth in the air.  
  
“I hope you all enjoy today’s match of Slytherin House verses Hufflepuff House.” Harry could see some of the players motioning to Hooch and then pointing up at the commentators podium in exasperation. Luna’s voice was soft and steady, nothing like the way Lee Jordan used to commentate, and nothing like Zacharias Smith. Smith was of course currently on the pitch, swearing dramatically towards Luna because of the hold up with the start of the game.  
  
“Release the Quaffle!” McGonagall barked into the microphone at Luna’s side as Luna began to thank everyone for coming out today.  
  
“Oh yes, please do.” Luna added, still speaking into the microphone. Harry smiled at her, she really was lovely, but he had absolutely no idea why she had volunteered to be a Commentator. She wasn’t exactly always “with it”.  
  
“The big Slytherin Chaser has the Quaffle!” Luna exclaimed.   
  
“Vaisey!” McGonagall shouted. Harry expected this would be a long game for the Professor.  
  
“Now someone on the Hufflepuff team has it, oh I can’t remember his name, I’m so sorry. Is it Bibble?”  
  
“Cadwallader!” McGonagall chimed in.  
  
“Oh thank you Professor, there’s rather a lot of names you see and - Slytherin just scored a goal, that’s ten points to Slytherin I believe. Well done!”   
  
Harry laughed to himself and watched as Blaise fist bumped Draco as he pulled away from the hoops where he had just made the first goal of the day. Harry’s eyes followed Draco around the pitch, trying (mostly failing) to drown out Luna’s nonsense.  
  
It must have been about halfway through the game when Harry noticed that something was wrong with Draco. He was constantly pulling to the right, at one point he had to dive slightly to narrowly miss Zacharias Smith heading towards his head, Quaffle in hand, and then he had to swerve tightly to the left to miss a Bludger that was streaming after the Hufflepuff.  
  
“Malfoy’s lost his form.” Ron said, somewhat cheerfully. Harry didn’t think that would be worth addressing, especially not when Draco tried to signal to Urquhart, the Slytherin Captain, for a time out. Urquhart just shook his head.  
  
“He’s not calling for a time out!” Hermione exclaimed in outrage.  
  
“Of course he’s not. Slytherin’s on close to seventy percent possession and everyone else’s form is top notch. I wish I could fault it really.” Ron leaned over the side and whooped in delight as Cadwallader streamed past to try and take the Quaffle from Blaise. He failed, out maneuvered by Blaise cork screwing past his feint.  
  
“Lovely little turn by Zabini. Does that move have a name Professor?” Luna’s voice was background noise as Harry focussed on Draco.  
  
“His arm is hurting.” He pointed out to Ron and Hermione, “That’s why he’s pulling to the right, he can’t put too much pressure on his left arm.”  
  
“He’s always favoured steering with his hands, it’s why he always slows down whenever he reaches for the Snitch.” Ron said, Hermione just raised her eyebrows in surprise.   
  
“He needs to use his knees.” Harry said absentmindedly.  
  
“What’s Goyle playing at, hitting a Bludger at his own team-” Ron started to say.  
  
“DRACO BLUDGER!” Harry yelled at the top of his voice. He didn’t know if Draco had heard him or not, but the Slytherin Seeker managed to flatten himself to his broom just in time. He shot forward, safely taking himself out of the path of the oncoming Bludger, and managing to steer himself towards Harry and the Gryffindors.  
  
“YOU OKAY?” Harry yelled over to him, when he was as close as he was allowed to be. Draco glanced down at him and his face was twisted up in pain, he obviously couldn’t concentrate on both staying up in the air and controlling his facial expressions as the burning pain travelled up to his shoulder. He was even trying to cradle his arm close to his chest in an effort to control the pain. He was struggling.  
  
“USE YOUR KNEES!” Harry yelled again. Ignoring the nudges and shoves he was getting from his own teammates who were in the stands with him, they, like Ron, believed that no relationship was worth losing the Quidditch Cup. They might see it as helping the enemy but he was just trying to make sure that Draco would be able to see the match through. Harry watched as Draco shifted on the broom, shifting backwards and raising himself slightly using the footrests so that he was gripping his Nimbus 2001 with his right hand and both knees.  
  
“Come on Darling.” Harry murmured under his breath as Draco found his balance in this new position he wasn’t used to. Another Bludger was aimed towards him, this time from one of the Hufflepuff Beaters (who had started to identify him as a weak link), but Harry didn’t need to yell this time, Draco was already aiming his broom upwards and half disappearing into the low cloud cover.  
  
“I think Draco Malfoy just disappeared,” Luna said, “He’d best be very careful I think a nest of Glumbumbles have settled somewhere on the grounds, they are quite-”  
  
“Sixty-Forty to Slytherin!” McGonagall interrupted once again.  
  
“Thank you Professor. As I was saying, the Glumbumble-”  
  
“Miss Lovegood,  _ please _ focus on the game.”   
  
Harry was watching the clouds above, he could see a flash of green cloak every now and then but Draco was almost invisible to the naked eye. Harry knew he would only need a few minutes for the pain to pass but every minute that he was out of the game was another minute that Summerby was free to catch the Snitch uninterrupted.  
  
“They’re getting annoyed.” Hermione said. While Harry’s eyes had been glued to the cloud above, Hermione had been busy watching the Slytherin house. Harry glanced down and he could see that she was right, they were pointing up at the clouds in anger, shouting abuse up at Draco (who couldn’t possibly hear them, but they were trying anyway).  
  
“He needs to catch the Snitch.” Harry said to her, “Draco said so himself that half the house already hates him.”  
  
“Oh, there he is, Draco Malfoy is back everyone.” Harry had been looking at Hermione, and it took Luna’s ridiculous commentary to bring his attention back to the pitch where Draco had just burst through the cloud cover and lapped the entire stadium, looking like nothing had ever happened to him. Harry sighed in relief and clapped and grinned as he passed by, “I think it’s lovely that he and Harry Potter are dating-” Harry flushed a bright red and dropped into his seat to hide his face in his hands as his team cackled in laughter and shoved him from all sides for a different reason.  
  
“Miss Lovegood! Seventy-Fifty to Slytherin!”  
  
“I think Draco Malfoy just spotted the Snitch. Although it could be a Golden Snidget- No, no, I do believe it is the Snitch. The Hufflepuff Seeker has seen it too now, oh my, they are moving very fast aren’t they? I don’t think I could ever fly that fast, it does seem to be quite a talent-”  
  
“MALFOY CATCHES THE SNITCH!” McGonagall yelled, “Slytherin wins!” She dragged the microphone away from Luna and ushered her out of the commentators box as soon as the winner was declared. Harry had a feeling Luna wouldn’t be allowed to do that again next year. He probably could care more but he was too busy clapping and cheering for his boyfriend,   
  
Draco was waving the Snitch about in the air with his fingers clenched tightly around the little golden ball, and he slowly descended to the pitch amid the roars and cheers from the Slytherins and the boos from the rest of the school. Harry knew Draco’s win made it twice as hard for his team to win the Quidditch cup, but at this moment he honestly didn’t care, Draco’s happiness was roaring through his mind and a slight struggle in their next match was worth that feeling.


	53. Chapter 53

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Spoiler Alert*  
> Porn. Just wall to wall, start to finish porn.

“Do you know how close you just came to-” Harry tried to say. A pair of lips sealed over his own, cutting him off mid sentence and ruining his train of thought, so much so that when Draco pulled away it took him a few seconds to even realise what he had been trying to say.  
  
“Shut up Harry.” Draco said and with his arms wrapped around Harry’s waist and his mouth finding a path down Harry’s neck, Harry really wasn’t about to argue. Not right now anyway. Maybe later.  
  
“Bed?” Harry asked. They were in the Room of Requirement, Draco had partied with the Slytherins for two hours after the match, but he had soon become bored of the long glaring looks from various corners of the room, and the constant vigilance over the drinks he had been handed, he didn’t trust anyone not to take advantage of the opportunity to poison him. That’s how he found himself with Harry, in their usual room, only this time with the addition of a massive four poster bed tucked into the far corner. Harry knew what had been on Draco’s mind when he had requested the room.  
  
“Yes.” Draco nodded and he scraped his teeth against Harry’s collarbone which peeked out from under the neck of his t-shirt. Sex hadn’t exactly taken a backseat to everything else, but they were more settled into the relationship and like all long term relationships, sex wasn’t as common as it was when they had first got together. Harry didn’t mind so much, of course he wanted Draco all the time, and it didn’t take much from the Slytherin to get him hard. A pointed look across the great hall, the swipe of his tongue across his bottom lip after he had eaten his dessert, the way he would wrap his lips around a sugar quill in class and just fucking  _ suck -  _ but that was besides the point. He wanted Draco constantly, unfortunately life didn’t always allow them time for long luxurious lovemaking. But the sex was even better after a little bit of a wait so it was always worth it.   
  
Harry slid his hands around to Draco arse and he squeezed and  _ lifted.  _ Draco yelped a little as he was hoisted up, but he wasted no time in wrapping his legs around Harry. He clutched at the Gryffindor’s shoulders and kissed at his mouth as he was carried across the room. He could feel Harry, hard and heavy against his arse and he had no doubt that Harry could feel the same pressure against his stomach, trapped though they were within their trousers and underwear. Draco might love Harry in Muggle jeans, especially when they fit _ just  _ right around his arse and thighs, but Merlin his cock was too tightly confined for Draco to press down against it.   
  
Harry fell back onto the bed, bringing Draco down on top of him so that the Slytherin was perched across his hips. Draco rocked down, pressing himself down against Harry’s trapped cock as his own erection tented his much looser trousers.  
  
“Fuck that’s hot, keep doing that.” Harry hissed. His hands fell to Draco’s slender hips and he urged him on, his fingers dug into the material that separated them and he aided Draco in moving his body back and forth, helpless under the sway of his hips.   
  
“I’m not cumming like this. I just caught the Snitch, that warrants sex.” Draco gasped out, but he continued to move, rocking his erection up against Harry’s stomach, where his shirt had risen from the fall onto the bad, and then pressing his arse down to give Harry the same pleasure.  
  
“Sex. Yeah. Sure.” Harry panted. His hands left Draco’s hips to fumble with the fastening on his trousers, pulling the top button open and creating just enough room for him to plunge his hand into Draco’s underwear and grasp a firm handful of Draco’s cock.  
  
“Don’t you fucking dare jack me off you asshole.” Draco stopped moving suddenly, causing Harry to freeze, with his panting breaths caught in his lungs and his hand trapped down the front of Draco’s underwear. His green eyes were caught under Draco’s own and both of their pupils were dilated with desire.  
  
“You’re the hottest person I’ve ever met.” Harry said as he slowly removed his hand, dragging his fingers up Draco’s length as he did so. Draco pulled in a ragged breath and his eyes drifted shut, “Your body.” Harry flicked open the buttons of his shirt one by one, “The way you ride a broom.”  
  
“Our first kiss was because of bloody brooms.” Draco chuckled. Finally his shirt was unbuttoned and Draco chucked it to one side so that Harry’s hands could stroke over his skin, following the lines of his ribs and tracing across his stomach. Without a word to prepare his partner Harry gripped at Draco’s slim waist and hauled him up out of his lap in one smooth move. Harry laughed as Draco landed on the bed next to him with a surprised “Offt”.   
  
Then he let himself go.  
  
Draco couldn’t make heads or tails of where Harry’s hands were, or where his delightful mouth was. He just knew that he was being touched everywhere, all at once. He was being kissed on the neck, petted on the hip, stroked down the back of his thigh. He barely registered that his clothes were being peeled off one by one and only briefly realised that his trousers were being pushed down his thighs. Harry’s mouth was dropping to his stomach, distracting him from the slow disrobing. Then Harry’s lips were pressing a pattern of kisses across his shoulders and clavicle. His large hands were spanning over Draco’s ribs and around the curve of his hips.   
  
Before Draco could even notice that his underwear were being inched down his hips, Harry’s lips were wrapping around the head of his cock for a brief second of glorious suction. Then those lips were teasing at a pebbled nipple not two seconds later and Harry’s hands were sliding down his arms to encircle his wrists. Harry pinned him to the bed with a low erotic chuckle. Draco was helpless. Completely at the mercy of a Gryffindor’s talented mouth, tongue and teeth. Something which Harry seemed to take absolute joy in, if the look on his face was anything to go by.  
  
“Oh Merlin, you’re a dick.” Draco tried to buck his hips up, but it only really caused the length of his cock to slide against Harry’s.  
  
“Hmm.” Harry replied, Draco liked to think it was in agreement but his teeth were busy making a trail of tiny little love bites down the side of his neck and across his chest, so he couldn’t really be sure of that.  
  
“Fuck sake!” Draco’s head thumped back against the mattress when he tried and failed to arch into Harry’s body to prolong the drag of his mouth down his skin. Harry’s mouth fell, once again, to the head of his cock. He had dragged Draco’s arms down with him, no longer pinned above his head now they were pinned at his side, and Harry’s hands were firm enough to hold him tightly, but gentle enough that Draco knew he could twist out of his grasp if he really wanted to. He didn’t want to. He really didn’t want to. He especially didn’t want to now that Harry’s mouth was sliding down the side of his cock, not taking him fully into his mouth because he was a damned fucking cocktease, but close enough for Draco to cant his hips at the right angle and-  
  
Merlin. Fucking. Shit. Holy. Muggle Jesus. There was a mouth on his balls. Harry’s damned cockteasing mouth on his fucking balls. He vaguely felt Harry’s hands leaving his wrists to hook under his knees and pull his thighs open, his legs stretched wide over Harry’s shoulders, and Harry’s head disappeared between his thighs. Harry’s hair was soft under his fingers as he grabbed and pulled at fistfuls to get Harry where he needed him to be (a little to the right apparently). Harry’s fingers were probably painting bruises onto his pale thighs with how tightly he was being held, but Draco didn’t care because that tongue - Oh fucking Merlin that  _ tongue  _ \- was trailing circles on his perineum and his balls were pretty much resting on Harry’s nose and - where did his glasses even go? - he was lifting Draco up slightly, grabbing for a pillow that appeared under his fingers the moment he thought of it.  
  
“Yes.” Draco was chanting, but he was hardly aware of it. His blonde hair was loose around his head, the sheets were soft against his back, his hands were buried in a head of jet black hair, his legs were wrapped around a pair of wide shoulders, his balls were resting against a scarred forehead, his arse was being held open by strong hands and the saviour of the wizarding world was rimming him like his entire fucking life depended on it. And Merlin, wasn’t this feeling just a hundred times better than catching a stupid fucking ball.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a short one today, I felt like this should be a stand alone chapter before *things* started happening haha.


	54. Chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little Interlude perhaps?

He scoffed at the Follower kneeling in the corner. He had lost consciousness some minutes ago, slumping forward until his forehead was pressed against the rug that covered the hardwood floors. His wand had rolled out of his hand, coming to rest a few feet away from his prone form.  
  
“My Lord.” His Follower would be relieved from the duty he had proven to be so worthless at.  
  
“Wormtail, remove Jugson.”  
  
“Yes my Lord.” The rat of a man bowed at his feet, touching his robe with the tips of his dirty fingers. He sneered down at the poor excuse of a wizard, how this worm could claim to be of pure blood he would never know. His existence was a waste of noble blood, but he was loyal and he had sacrificed much to be by his Lord's side.  
  
“Take over the task Wormtail.” The Dark Lord ignored the hesitation towards the unfavoured appointment. The Dark Lord stood above the fallen wand. Jugson was weak, he had failed in the Department of Mysteries and he had failed at this task.  
  
“We do not reward failure.” He sneered. The unknown wood of the wand cracked in half underneath the pressure of his foot.  
  
“Wormtail!” He barked. The worm was yet to carry out his instructions and he was becoming impatient.  
  
“W-Wingardium Leviosa.” The slumped form of Jugson was lifted and levitated out of his sight, and the remnants of the broken wand were kicked against the far wall. They would be taken to the wandmaker to be repurposed. Wormtail fell to his knees and with shaking hands he rolled the sleeve of his robe up to his elbow, exposing the tattoo that pledged his allegiance to his Lord. He raised his wand slowly, as though he was expecting the Dark Lord to revoke the order he had given, but the Dark Lord simply watched in expectation. Wormtail brought the tip of his wand down to his marked skin, and though his hands were quivering from fear, the wand tip pressed into the centre of the tattoo.  
  
“Proditor.” The Dark Lord cast at the point of contact, “Punish the traitor Wormtail.”  
  
The Dark Lord watched in fascination, as he always did at such human displays of pain and fear. Wormtail was already whimpering under the onslaught, but he was not to lift his wand, the last Follower who lifted his wand had received a much worse punishment. He had been using his own magic for many months, torturing the traitor single handedly, but using his Followers had proven to be a much better idea. For some it proved to be a test of loyalty and for others a punishment for failure. It did not matter to the Dark Lord, the so-named Lord Malfoy would not find relief from his torture.  
  
“Do not release your wand, Wormtail. Do not give the traitor the relief that he begs for.” The Malfoy nuisance would be begging for mercy soon, other wizards would rather cut off their arm than endure it much longer.  
  
“Yes, my Lord.” Wormtail whimpered.  
  
“Tell me Wormtail, the traitor's date of birth, it approaches does it not?” The Dark Lord turned away from the filth that was bowed at his feet and looked over the plans and maps that were spread across the desk in the office that he had claimed. He had not been able to gain entry into Lucius Malfoy’s office, a fact that he had despised. The door would not open, not through magical force or brute force, but still he persevered, his precious Diary was still yet to be discovered.  
  
“Y-yes, my Lord. J-June f-fifth.”  
  
“Yes, of course. We shall arrange a surprise for the traitor, isn’t that right Wormtail?” There was no answer from the rat.  
  
“Pathetic.” The Dark Lord spat. The rat had collapsed onto his side, overwhelmed in mere seconds by the pain the magic brought, Jugson had lasted an hour, and before him Selwyn had lasted an hour and a half. Pettigrew was a weak, pathetic, excuse for a Wizard, and one day he would not require his assistance and the rat will burn with the rest of the scum of the Wizarding World. He rewarded loyalty, but not when it was accompanied by weakness and cowardice.  
  
“Travers!” The Dark Lord shouted for his next Follower. The task needed to be continued, the traitor needed to be punished. No matter how many Followers fell at his feet by their own wand, the pain they felt was nothing compared to the torture the traitor would be feeling. But the Malfoy traitor was strong, stronger than his failure of a Father had ever given him credit for.   
  
The Malfoy child must be felled and so then will Harry Potter fall. The magic between them was strong, the Dark Lord had felt it in the Ministry of Magic, so much power at their fingertips, ripe and ready for corruption. If they do not bend to his will and offer their magic freely, then he would destroy them. One by one. Until both were no more than lifeless bodies at his feet. Then all would know that the Dark Lord was the true Saviour of the Wizarding World.  
  
“My Lord.” Travers was bowing at his feet.  
  
“The task has fallen to you. Make the Traitor pay for his insolence.”  
  
“Yes, my Lord.” He raised his wand with all the confidence of a devoted Follower and pressed the tip of it to his Dark Mark.  
  
The traitor will fall. Harry Potter will Fall. Albus Dumbledore will fall. The Wizarding World will fall. Only then will he be able to reinstate the superiority of Wizards, only then will he be able to rid the world of the Muggle scum that infested it.  
  
X  
  
Harry woke up suddenly, an aborted shout half leaving his mouth before he became fully aware of where he was. In his bed. In Gryffindor Tower. In Hogwarts. With his Soulmate curled up next to him, pressing close in the confines of the single bed (they had managed to expand it a little to accommodate them both, but the bed was already imbued with so much magic that there was little they could do without rendering it completely unusable).  
  
“Harry?” Draco murmured sleepily from his side, he had pushed himself up onto an elbow while his other hand patted at Harry’s chest in the dark.  
  
“It’s okay, I’m okay.” Harry panted and wiped the sweat off his forehead with the back of an impatient hand.  
  
“Vision?” Draco asked, and he leaned out of the curtains to grab a glass from the bedside table.  
  
“I don’t know, maybe. Maybe just a memory.” Harry scrubbed his hands through his hair and rubbed at his eyes before taking the glass of cold water that Draco had conjured, “Are  _ you _ okay?” Harry asked.  
  
“A little pain, not as bad as it has been recently.”  
  
“Did I wake you?” Harry knew how desperately Draco had been trying to regain his sleep since the pain in his Dark Mark had increased.  
  
“No, not really.” Harry passed the glass back and he waited until Draco placed it carefully down before he shifted back under the covers, dragging Draco down with him.  
  
“I’m worried about this.” Harry muttered, and he pushed Draco’s sleeve up to close his palm around the skull of the dark mark, “I think I know why the pain’s been getting worse.”  
  
“Why?” Draco asked quietly, he had long since stopped trying to get Harry to stop touching the Mark, it was something he endured for Harry’s sake.  
  
“He’s using Death Eaters, casting some sort of spell on their Marks and giving them the ability to send curses through the connection.” Harry stroked his forearm with gentle fingers, “They’re in as much pain as you, I think they keep passing out, that's why the pain starts and stops.”  
  
“Well at least I haven’t done that.” Draco sounded amused but Harry could see through it, he was worried too. Harry could feel it from him, even if Draco wasn’t admitting it.  
  
The pain really was getting worse. The days of one attack every few days made way for one attack every day, which soon developed into multiple attacks a day. It started in the morning, interrupted his lessons, ruined his meal times, woke him up in the middle of the night and on two occasions he had to push a naked Harry off him and curl up into a ball to cradle his arm against his chest. It was difficult to get out of bed in the morning, knowing that his day would be full of wave after wave of pain, and it was difficult to go to bed at night, because there was nothing to distract him from the radiating burning sensation that was spreading up his arm and across his shoulder.   
  
Half the time he couldn’t even meet Harry’s eyes. Harry had offered him a way out, a way to sever the connection and save him from all the grief and pain that he was being exposed to. Even so, he still couldn’t bring himself to ask for it. He had meant what he had said, there was no guarantee that the spell would work and even less of a guarantee that there would be no side effects. Draco rolled over onto his side, burying himself back under the crimson and gold sheets and clutching his arm close to his chest. He could feel Harry settling in behind him, pressing close to his back and wrapping an arm around his waist. Draco allowed the palm of his right hand to slide underneath the sleeve of his loose pyjama shirt to press against the dark lines of the tattoo. He didn’t need to look at it to know that the black lines were set against the raw redness of his abused skin. He saw it every time he showered, every time he changed his clothes, he saw it in his mind's eye every waking moment of every day, he saw it in his dreams where it hovered in his peripheral vision, always present, always following him. He was being haunted by this Mark.   
  
He tried to copy what Harry always did for him, he concentrated on filling his palm with magic, he could feel it tingling against his skin as it pooled in the space between his palm and his arm, and then he set a cooling spell through it, wandless and wordless. It wasn’t nearly as effective as Harry’s touch, but then Harry never really did conform to the convention of magic, Draco had lived his life knowing that there were rules to magic, knowing that some things could be done and some things couldn’t. Harry had no such constraints; he saw no bother in ignoring those pesky rules that most other Wizards lived their lives by.  
  
Curled up under Harry’s sheets, with Harry wrapped around him like a warm blanket of comfort and a pool of magic cooling his raw forearm, Draco found himself able to drift off into a fitful sleep once again.


	55. Chapter 55

Given that the last surprise that Harry had decided to give to Draco had been point blank denied, Harry decided that he would go simple for Draco’s birthday present.  
  
“Simple?!” Ron exclaimed as he stood behind Harry in the Great Hall and leaned over his shoulder to read the order that he was sending to the Diagon Alley Cauldron Shop, “Harry, there’s got to be at least a hundred Galleons worth of stuff on here.”  
  
“I said simple, not cheap. This is Draco Malfoy after all. Besides he won’t stop talking to me about how much the potion he’s developing would come out so much better with a silver or gold cauldron. So I’m getting him a couple of sizes of both.” Harry explained without looking up from the parchment that he had ripped out the back of the Daily Prophet a couple of days ago. The order form had been exactly what he had needed and it came just before he could start panicking about what to get Draco for his birthday.  
  
“I think you’re both mental.” Ron rolled his eyes and dropped down onto the bench next to him and began to help himself to the lunch spread with gusto.  
  
“I know.” Harry grinned at him, finally looking up from the parchment once he had finished off the order form with his signature. He quickly stuffed it into an envelope he had got from Hermione and passed the sealed letter to Hedwig, who had been standing on the table next to him. She had been ripping apart a piece of bacon which he had offered her from his own plate, and she hooted woefully when she was forced to drop the rest of the rasher to take the letter from his hand. He gently stroked the white feathers on the crown of her head before leaning away from her impressive wingspan and allowing her to take off. She disappeared up into the fog that filled the charmed sky above the House tables.  
  
“Where is he anyway?” Ron asked, it was strange to see one without the other these days. Harry was constantly helping Draco about when he felt well enough to leave his bed, and when he didn’t, Harry was dashing in and out of the Great Hall, grabbing a plate full of food and disappearing to wherever Draco had holed himself, usually their dorm in the Gryffindor Tower, sometimes the Room of Requirement, rarely down in his own bed in Slytherin. He said it made him feel too vulnerable to be around members of his own house in his current state.  
  
“He’s with Pansy and Blaise today, Pansy already grabbed some food for him and took it down.” Harry wasn’t going to say that he was relieved to be given a free day, although a little part of him was. He loved Draco, and of course he wanted to take care of him, but it was difficult for him to watch his Soulmate struggle. Especially when Harry was so sure he could prevent it. He just needed a day to collect himself and then he’ll happily be right back to Draco’s side.  
  
“Is he getting worse?” Ron’s words were garbled around the sausage that he was chewing, but Harry had more than enough experience with Ron’s eating voice to work out what he had said.  
  
“I think it peaked yesterday. I wish I knew Voldemort's plan, he can’t carry this on forever.”  
  
“Could it kill him?” Ron said quietly and looked around them surreptitiously to make sure that no one was close enough to overhear. Harry was sure the rumour mill would completely blow up if they overheard Harry Potter talking about someone being killed.  
  
“I don’t know. It doesn’t seem to be spreading, I think it’s just torture for tortures sake.” That was Voldemort's speciality when it came to traitors.  
  
“And the Professors aren’t asking for a sick note or anything?”  
  
“Most of them have stopped asking, McGonagall tried holding me back to ask me about it yesterday but I just kept saying that he still wasn’t feeling well. If it goes on for much longer I wouldn’t be surprised if they stormed the Tower or the Dungeons and forced him to the Hospital Wing.”  
  
“Can I be there to see that?” Ron looked a little too gleeful at the image of Draco being dragged kicking and screaming down the stairs of Gryffindor Tower.  
  
“I imagine he’ll probably sneak out using the invisibility cloak and lock himself in the Room of Requirement if they even tried.” Harry didn’t need to imagine that at all, Draco had said so himself yesterday when Harry had brought it up with him. They both knew that he wasn’t about to let anyone find out about the Dark Mark.  
  
“Damn, spoil my fun.” Ron stabbed at his pie aggressively.  
  
“Harry Potter?” Harry turned around quickly, he hadn’t realised that someone had been standing next to them, and he really hoped that their conversation hadn’t been overheard.  
  
“Yeah?” Harry said with a frown to the Ravenclaw boy who had approached him from behind. He looked nervous and he couldn’t have been any older than a second year.  
  
“I-I have a note. F-From Professor Dumbledore.” His hands trembled slightly as he fetched the note out of his robe pocket and held it out to Harry with an unsteady hand.  
  
“Oh, cheers.” Harry took the note, and the younger student quickly turned on his heel and ran out of the Great Hall without a backwards look.  
  
“Kid’s about to have a heart attack cause he’s just spoken to the Chosen One.” Ron scoffed, “Don’t they realise you’re not all that? Do you think I should tell everyone you snore and drool in your sleep?”  
  
“I do not!” Harry argued with a bark of laughter.  
  
“How would you know?” Ron grinned at him in triumph.  
  
“Do you think Draco would ever want to share a bed with me if I snored and drooled?” Harry laughed as the triumph left Ron’s face, “Besides, you’re my best friend, if I thought you were gonna start spilling my secrets I think snoring would be the least of my worries.”  
  
“You’re right. I do have quite a bit of dirt on you, don’t I?” Ron perked up again and reached for a goblet of pumpkin juice, “What’s the note?” Harry flipped the folded piece of paper open and read the short note quickly.  
  
_ Harry,  
_ _ I shall be absent from Hogwarts tomorrow evening and shall be returning at midnight. Please await my arrival on the Astronomy Tower with your cloak.  
_ _ A. Dumbledore  
  
_ “Sounds serious.” Ron murmured, “Do you think he’s going to fetch a-” Ron leaned even closer and dropped his voice another octave, “A You-Know-What.”   
  
“Maybe.” Harry replied, and he tucked the note quickly away when he felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. He felt like they were being watched by someone, but when he glanced around he couldn’t see anyone staring at them outright. Even so, the Great Hall wasn’t exactly the best place for this kind of discussion.  
  
X  
  
At eleven thirty the next evening Harry took his leave of his friends in the Gryffindor Common Room, with Draco spending another day and night down in Slytherin he had been free to spend his evening with his dorm mates. He hadn’t spent much time with anyone other than Draco, Ron and Hermione in a good few weeks and he had been enjoying a nice boisterous game of Exploding Snap, and taking part in a healthy dose of house gossip. He hadn’t even realised that Dean and Ginny had broken up months ago and he felt a little guilty that he had fallen so out of touch with everyone. He only had himself to blame, he had been piling on the responsibilities this year, filling his spare time with his relationship and not giving himself time to spend with his friends. He would have to work on that in the future.  
  
As he left through the portrait hole he patted his pocket where the lump of the invisibility cloak thumped against his thigh. He also pulled out the Marauders Map, he didn’t want to be discovered sneaking around the castle at night. He had managed to avoid being caught since the beginning of the year and it would be just his luck that someone would spot him now, right as he had something really important to get to. He stopped at the nearest corner and quickly pulled the cloak over his head, hiding himself from view. From the look of the Map it seemed like everyone was in their common rooms, all except two Prefects who were patrolling the fifth floor corridor, two floors below him. He could see that the Professors were all in their rooms, probably asleep, and Filch was down on the first floor.  
  
Harry checked the dungeons briefly, Draco’s label gave him a little bit of reassurance that he would be perfectly okay down in Slytherin for the night. As he went to fold the map away a pair of moving footprints made him pause as his eyes skimmed over the dungeons, Snape was pacing backwards and forwards in his office. It wasn’t entirely unusual for him to still be active at this time of night, Harry had watched the map enough that year to know the Professor kept odd hours.  
  
Harry continued on down the dark corridors. He had never felt scared or apprehensive about wandering the corridors at night, unlike some of his fellow students. It felt freeing. He had spent half his life being locked up in a cupboard that he couldn’t even stand up in, when he walked around Hogwarts he felt like he had the whole castle to himself. He checked the map briefly before turning any corners, just in case those Prefects had moved faster than he had expected, but they were moving further away from him, heading down to the third floor. Perhaps they were done for the night, Harry remembered Ron and Hermione always being back in the common room by that time of night.  
  
Harry looked out of one of the windows as he walked passed, it was dark outside, not even Hagrid’s lights were shining from behind hastily pulled curtains. With the moon hidden behind thick clouds there were hardly any discernible features to the Hogwarts grounds at all, nothing but an even darker mass where the Forbidden Forest began and the slight reflection of the shifting clouds across the surface of the lake. Harry saw a tentacle from the giant squid breaking the surface of the water for a split second before it was once again out of sight, the movement sent ripples shimmering across the surface.  
  
Harry checked the map once more before crossing the staircase to get to the other side of the castle. Prefects on the Third floor, McGonagall asleep in her quarters. Filch back in his office. Snape-  
  
Not alone.   
  
Not alone in the slightest. There seemed to be so many people in his office that the footprints and the names were overlapping each other, so much so that Harry could barely make out a single name. But how could that be possible? Was the map malfunctioning? He had just been looking out onto the grounds and no one had entered the castle from the front gates. Harry threw the cloak off his shoulders and stuffed it in his pocket hastily so he could look at the Parchment without the material getting in his way. He froze in the middle of the dark corridor and brought the Map closer to his face. The dim Lumos he had conjured reflected in his glasses and he had to squint in order to make out anything at all in the small confines of Snape's seemingly crowded office.  
  
One name became very clear, very suddenly.  
  
Harry’s breath caught in his lungs for barely half a second before he was plunging his hand into his robes and drawing out his wand. He could feel his heart starting to pump faster and faster as every part of his body was filled with adrenaline. The spell he needed jumped to his tongue before he could even think of it, as instinct began to take over thought.   
  
“EXPECTO PATRONUM!” The stag appeared before him in all of its glory but Harry had no time to admire it, “DEATH EATERS IN THE DUNGEONS! Wake McGonagall, wake everyone! There's Death Eaters in Hogwarts!”   
  
Then Harry began to run.  
  
When he made it to the sixth floor the Death Eaters were still congregated in Snape’s office, the single name that had stood out to him hovered next to the door, Fenrir Greyback. When Harry’s feet hit the flagstones of the fifth floor the Death Eaters had started to stream out into the corridor beyond the office, heading up into the main Castle. Except two, who were making their way further into the dungeons. Snape was still yet to move, almost as though he was waiting for something. Harry knew he only needed to reach the fourth floor in order to descend a hidden staircase that would bring him out onto the first floor, and from there he could use another hidden staircase which would take him directly to the Entrance Hall.  
  
Harry ran down the fifth floor corridor at full sprint, he had taken the stairs two and three at a time, leaping down them as quickly as humanly possible in order to head off the Death Eaters before they had a chance to properly infiltrate the main part of the Castle. He was just slipping behind the statue of the first hidden staircase when he heard loud shouts starting to fill the corridors. The Professors were being woken. His Patronus had done its job. Harry let out a little breath of relief, at least the occupants of Hogwarts wouldn’t be slaughtered in their beds.  
  
Before he hightailed it down the steep flight of stairs he checked the map once more. The Death Eaters had emerged from the Dungeons, and had started to head up the main staircase. Harry could see that the Professors were moving down the various corridors, and they would meet in the middle within minutes. Then Harry remembered the two others, the ones who had left Snape's office to head further down into the depths of Hogwarts, towards the - Harry checked the map quickly - Slytherin Common Room? But what could they want-?  
  
“Draco.” Harry wanted to shout and yell for him but the name left his mouth as barely a stifled gasp. He stuffed the map away and didn’t give it a second glance until he had reached the bottom of the staircase. The descent had only taken him a couple of minutes, but now he was low enough in the castle that he just couldn’t burst out from behind a random statue without making sure the coast was clear. After a quick check of the map Harry could see the corridor beyond was empty, it seemed as though the Death Eaters were sticking to the main staircase, pulling all the focus to them, probably so that no one would notice or care about a single Slytherin student being taken from his bed.  
  
Harry would have hoped by now that Draco would have been awoken by his panic but his side of their connection remained dormant. Harry forced his emotions down the bond, throwing the floodgates wide open and channelling every thought and feeling towards the sleeping Draco.  
  
“Come on.” Harry whispered to himself as he crept down the first floor corridor to the tapestry, “Come on, come on. Wake up.” Fear. Panic. Dread. Worry. Harry pushed every negative feeling he had down towards Draco, in the blind hope that something would wake him up. He could feel Draco stirring. But would he have enough time? The Death Eaters had already passed through the Common Room. They were heading down the narrow corridor that led to the boys dorm.   
  
Draco finally responded with confusion and disorientation but the Death Eaters were right outside his door.  
  
“Get ready Draco.” Harry said under his breath, he had reached the tapestry and slipped behind it to begin his descent once again. Panic. Fear. Dread. Harry hoped it was enough. He hoped Draco would understand. Hoped he had picked up his wand the moment he had woken up. Harry didn’t need to check the map to know that the Death Eaters would be in his room. Harry could imagine them bursting through the door. He could feel their combined magic being used, and he could imagine Draco flinging spells towards them, Blaise joining in and casting by his side. But the others, would they help the Death Eaters? Or would they stand back and watch it happen? Was Draco’s decision to stay in Slytherin tonight the one decision that would cost him his life?  
  
Harry reached the Entrance Hall. It was empty. But he could hear commotion from the floors above and he knew that the Professors were meeting the Death Eaters with the full force of their magics and Harry hoped that there were some students who would stand up and fight. He both hated that they would have to and hoped that they would at the same time.  
  
“Potter!” Harry froze, halfway across the Entrance Hall where he had tried to make a mad dash for the dungeon entrance without wasting time in pulling out his cloak again.  
  
“We heard there were Death Eaters in the castle, we recognised your Patronus, where are they?” It was Ernie Macmillan who had spoken. He had a look of determination on his face that Harry hadn’t seen since their time together in the DA the previous year. Harry looked beyond him, at the scared but resolved faces of the other Hufflepuff students who had decided to follow him, Hannah Abbot, Susan Bones and Justin Finch-Fletchley. His DA students.  
  
“Main staircase, first and second floor. There’s some professors up there too.” Harry looked at their faces one at a time, he had to believe that they would survive this, he had trained them to survive it, “Be careful, all of you.” Then he turned and ran into the dungeons, the shout of “ _ Wait! Where are you going?!”  _ followed him, but he didn’t stop to answer.   
  
He could feel Draco’s panic now. He was throwing spells one after the other, barely pausing before casting the next one, Harry could feel the magic running through him, he could feel the power that Draco was using and he tried to offer up more, pressing the full force of his power down their Soulbond. No matter what was happening, at least he could be sure that Draco was still alive, still casting spells, and still defending himself.   
  
Harry was barely twenty five feet into the dark dungeons when Draco’s casting suddenly stopped.  
  
Harry tried to push himself forward. Tried to ignore the fear that was welling up inside him. He just needed to get to Draco, everything would be fine. He just needed to get there. He concentrated on the feeling of his wand in his sweaty palm, on his feet moving rapidly one in front of another. He turned a corner. And then another one. And another one. Following a path that he knew like the back of his hand. Draco would be fine. Draco would be-  
  
The feeling of absolute unadulterated agony ripped through him. He stumbled over his own feet. Momentarily forgetting how his legs worked as the shadow of Draco’s pain hit him in the chest. He felt like his nerves were on fire, and Harry was more than familiar with the effects of the Cruciatus Curse. For a moment Harry forgot where he was, he had been running through the corridors so quickly that he hadn’t noticed just how close to Snape’s office he had gotten. Not until a door opened barely five feet in front of him. He tried to lift his wand, but his mind and body were still processing the after effects of the echoed Cruciatus Curse.  
  
“Incarcerous!”   
  
The spell was cast at such a speed that Harry could barely utter a spell to block it, ropes shot towards him like the snap of a whip. His wand fell from his hand as his arms were forced behind his back, binding him in thick magical ropes, and he was brought to his knees as his ankles were met with the same treatment. He looked up with all the hate he could muster as Snape stepped out from behind the door and into his view. Harry had never seen him look as satisfied as he did in this exact moment.  
  
“Well Potter, what a predicament we are in.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Your comments fuel me. Thank you all so much for the lovely feedback, I appreciate every single comment and every single Kudos :)   
> Thanks for sticking with me so far.


	56. Chapter 56

“Dumbledore trusted you!” Harry spat.  
  
“Silencio. That’s quite enough of that.” Snape folded his arms, bringing his black robe forward to wrap around himself, like a great bat hiding behind the cover of its wings. He looked down at Harry in barely hidden glee, he finally had a chance to do whatever he had always dreamed of doing, to Harry and to his Father.  
  
“It’s been amusing to see you running about the castle, trying to solve this little mystery.” Harry struggled against the bindings around his wrists. His wand was close enough that if he could get his arm free-   
  
“You never suspected me for a moment.” Snape continued, and Harry glared at him and shook his head from side to side. Forgetting the wand that he had been so desperately trying to reach for.  
  
“You have something to say on the matter? Very well, Finite.”   
  
“It wasn’t you! It was the student, the one Voldemort killed-” Harry began to shout.  
  
“DO NOT SAY HIS NAME!” Snape yelled, but Harry wouldn’t allow himself to be silenced until magic forced him.  
  
“The student stole the Forgetfulness potion from Slughorn and stole some of the invisibility potion from his class. You didn’t do anything! You’re taking the credit from some poor dead student because Voldemort doesn’t trust you and you’ll always have something to prove!”  
  
“SILENCIO!” Snape roared once again as he slashed his wand through the air, “DO NOT SAY THE DARK LORDS NAME!” Harry watched in forced silence as the Professor pushed away his anger.   
  
“You say I did not contribute to the state of affairs? I suppose the Know-It-All chit was the only one to figure out the gaps.” Harry glared at him at the mention of Hermione, but it didn’t deter his speech. One that Harry was sure he had wanted to say for a long time.  
  
“The useless child acted on a whim when he saw Malfoy alone, he administered the stolen potions, in that you are correct. But then he brought Malfoy to me when he realised that he could not remove him from the grounds and deliver him to the Dark Lord. It was  _ my _ Draught of the Living Death that kept Malfoy unconscious and easy to transport, it was  _ I  _ who delivered him to the feet of the Dark Lord. It was  _ my  _ spell which altered the memories of the Wizarding World.” Snape leaned down, bringing his face close to Harry’s, his black eyes were spitting a lifetime of built up anger towards the Gryffindor.  
  
Harry followed his speech closely, Draco had asked them to leave the subject to rest, but now and then Harry had found himself thinking of everything that hadn’t made sense at the time. Everything that was still missing from the chain of events. They hadn’t been able to figure out why Draco had been missing for a week before he came to consciousness in the Riddle Manor. Or why he had felt so cold, cold enough for Harry to feel it across every inch of his body. They hadn’t even considered the Draught of the Living Death, no student would ever have been able to brew it. And the False Memory Spell, they had wondered why it had been so easy to reverse, Snape was powerful, but no where near as powerful as Voldemort.  
  
“You say I am not trusted by the Dark Lord? I alone am trusted to stay by Dumbledore's side, I alone am trusted to spy on the Order of the Phoenix. You know nothing, you are but a child playing a game whose rules you have not yet learnt.”  
  
“We’ve got ‘im!” Came the jubilant shout from further down the corridor, “Put up a fight he did, but we got ‘im in the end.” Two burly figures were walking down the corridor, filling up the space with the wide breadth of their shoulders. Harry could only see their silhouettes, but the unconscious body thrown over one of their shoulders was obvious.  
  
“Good. The Floo is still open, quickly now.”  
  
“Ey, isn’t that Potter!” One of them said, Harry could see them now. He could see the scarred and twisted face of the one who was carrying Draco over his shoulder, Fenrir Greyback. But the other, the one who was talking, he had never seen before.  
  
“I will be dealing with him.” Snape said, “Go. Before we are joined by anyone else.”  
  
“Alright, alright.” The two disappeared inside the office. Harry heard the floo roaring up as the powder was dropped into the flames. He could imagine them stepping in, and he strained his ears, as much as humanly possible to hear- “ _ Malfoy Manor.”  
  
_ “I will be back for you Potter, I think I will be right in assuming that no one knows you are down here,” Harry’s heart sunk, because no one did know he was down there. No one but a group of Hufflepuffs, who may or may not survive the battle above. Harry couldn’t even hear the sounds of the fight, that’s how deep below Hogwarts he was.  
  
“I thought not. Idiot Potter, always rushing into danger without a thought. Of course, this time it works to my advantage.” Snape sneered at him and raised his wand once more.  
  
“Stupefy.”  
  
X  
  
When Harry regained consciousness he kept his eyes closed for a few moments longer than was necessarily warranted. He didn’t want to look up to see Snape looming over him with a self satisfied smirk on his face and he didn’t want to face the reality of Draco being missing again.   
  
“Did it work? Are you sure he isn’t dead?” Came the whispered voices from above him.  
  
“Shush.” A female voice responded.  
  
“Ouch! That was my foot!” Came a cry after a very deliberate stamp of shoe against shoe.  
  
Harry opened his eyes. The face that greeted him wasn’t the looming sallow face of the Defence Professor, but the long lanky features of his best friend, topped with a shock of ginger hair. The side of Ron’s face was a mess of bruises, from his hairline all the way down to his chin, interrupted by a few small cuts and scrapes across his cheek and temple. Hermione didn’t look much better, there was a gash across her right cheek which must have been bleeding heavily at one point because there were still trails of dried blood in her hair and across her ear. But they were a sight for sore eyes, and Harry was very glad that someone had managed to find him before Snape returned.  
  
“Harry!” Hermione cried and she threw herself to her knees and hugged him tightly around the neck, “I’m so glad we found you!”  
  
“How did you find me?” Harry asked. He smiled gratefully at Ron who finally thought to cast a finite on the ropes that had him bound, and he managed to pat Hermione on the back in comfort.  
  
“Ran into Ernie on the third floor, he said they saw you running in this direction by yourself and he figured there was a reason why.”  
  
“He was right.” Harry gently pushed Hermione off him and slowly rose to his feet, he rolled his ankles one at a time to make sure that the ropes hadn’t caused any lasting damage before he stood solidly on two feet.  
  
“I told you it was Snape.” Ron glared at the office door that the Death Eaters had all streamed out of not so long ago.  
  
“Come on Ron, there’s no way it was Professor Snape. Dumbledore vouched for him.”  
  
“No, he’s right.” Harry said, “It was Snape. I saw it all on the map when I was on my way up to meet Dumbledore, that’s when I cast the Patronus and legged it down here.”  
  
“Fucking knew it.” Ron seethed angrily.  
  
“What time is it? How long have I been out?” Harry had been so happy to see Ron and Hermione that he had momentarily forgot about the danger Draco was in.  
  
“I dunno, we were fighting for about twenty minutes or so, but our lot seemed to be getting the upper hand so we left them to find you. Why?” Ron answered.  
  
“Death Eaters took Draco to Voldemort.” Harry said. Hermione’s eyes widened and Ron’s jaw clenched, “They came through the Floo in Snape’s office. I’m going to go back through and get him back.” Harry steeled his resolve and took a step towards the still open door.  
  
“Harry!” He was stopped by Hermione’s hand on his sleeve, “We can’t do this again! This is a trap, it’s always a trap. Voldemort wants to get to you. If you go, who knows what will be waiting on the other side of the Floo.”  
  
“I don’t care!”  
  
“WELL I DO!” Hermione yelled back uncharacteristically, her voice echoed down the narrow corridors until it faded into nothing, they stared at each other until Hermione spoke again, softer this time, “I don’t want you to go and get yourself killed.” She paused for a split second, her eyes darted back and forth across Harry’s face as she read him as easily as she read a children's book, “But I know you won’t listen to me. So I’m going with you.”  
  
“Hermione, no-”  
  
“Me too. So you can stop trying to convince us otherwise.” Ron jumped in, cutting off Harry’s argument before it had even started, “Come this far haven’t we? What’s certain death against a lot of luck and a little bit of magic.”  
  
“What do we need?” Hermione asked and she was looking at Harry with a steely resolve. Her shoulders were straight and her chin was lifted, this was the Hermione who meant business, the Hermione who had a hundred spells at her beck and call. Ron was looking at him in the same way, with all the determination of a Gryffindor, “A way into Malfoy Manor?” She suggested. Even though the Floo was open, the wards wouldn’t allow just anyone to waltz through. Harry thought about that for a moment.  
  
“I think we already have a way in,” At their bewildered looks Harry explained himself, “Draco and I share magic don’t we? Our magical signature is exactly the same. If he can cross the wards...Then I think I can too.” Harry led them both into Snape's Office, the fire was still roaring in the grate, unassuming and not at all indicative that a dozen of the worst Death Eaters in Voldemort's arsenal had just stepped out of it.   
  
“And the wards should let you both through if you’re in contact with me. So we should go through together.”  
  
“We don’t know our way around.” Ron pointed out.  
  
“Remember that map that Dobby helped us draw up last year?”  
  
“The one to rescue Mrs Malfoy?” Hermione asked.  
  
“I kept it, and I started studying it again when I found out that Draco was in the Manor last year. I think I could get us to Draco. We just need to hope that he’s in a good enough state to get us all back out again.”  
  
“What if he’s with Voldemort?” Ron asked.  
  
“No, I think he’ll be in the dungeon.” Harry said, “Voldemort won’t want to stop torturing him but he won’t want to kill him either, he needs Draco alive to be able to stay in the Manor. And he doesn’t have the patience for weakness so he won’t want to watch Draco being tortured. If he isn’t in the dungeon he’ll be with a Death Eater, but a low level one, since all the inner circle are here.”  
  
“I like the odds.” Ron’s cheerful statement didn’t at all match with the serious expression in his eyes.  
  
“What happened to you anyway?” Harry asked, gesturing to the mess that was the side of his face.  
  
“Some idiot threw a Bombarda at a statue I was standing next to, the thing exploded right in my face. Hermione got hit by a laceration curse, but she stunned them before they could do any more damage.”  
  
“Nice one.” Hermione smiled lifelessly at Harry’s praise, too busy thinking about the possibility of sudden death. She was glancing back and forth between the fire that they had all gathered around and Harry’s face. Almost as if she was considering stunning him herself just to prevent him from doing another incredibly stupid and dangerous thing.  
  
“Together?” She asked hesitantly and with no small amount of trepidation.  
  
“Yeah.” Harry agreed, he reached up to the mantle above the fire, bypassing various nick-naks and books and reached for a small pot that was sure to contain floo powder. He grabbed a handful and threw it into the fire. The flames roared to life for a split second, before turning emerald green and settling down once again.  
  
“Ready?” Ron asked.  
  
“Not one little bit.” Harry admitted, but it didn’t stop him from stepping into the green flames first and holding his hands out for his best friends to cling onto.  
  
“Malfoy Manor.” 


	57. Chapter 57

Harry was extremely glad Ron had a lot of experience with the Floo system, he managed to keep all of them upright when the three of them landed in the grate in Malfoy Manor. Harry had felt Ron’s hand tighten on his elbow as he teetered on the edge of his toes when they landed heavily inside a white marble fireplace. Hermione had wobbled dangerously next to him and Harry saw Ron catch the hem of her jumper and steady her until she was firmly on her feet once more. The green flames subsided around them and Harry pulled out his wand, closely followed by Ron and Hermione doing the same at either side of him. They waited, just in case someone was listening for the sound of the roaring fire. They were right to have hesitated.  
  
“Made it back alive did ya?” Came a chortle from someone entering through the only doorway.  
  
“Stupefy!” Harry quickly cast, before the Death Eater could make out who was in the dark room,   
  
“That’s the one who brought Draco back, him and Greyback.” Harry recognised him immediately, from his accented voice and his large bulky frame. He couldn’t put a name to him though, which was made even more difficult for the fact that he had collapsed forwards, onto his face. Harry wouldn’t be surprised if he had broken his nose in the process, and he found that he felt no remorse for it.  
  
“We need to move him.” Harry said. He pointed to the open door, and where the toes of his black boots were poking out over the threshold, they wouldn’t just be able to close the door and hope that no one would see him. His prone form was obvious to anyone approaching from the hall beyond and from anyone who came out of the Floo. Which they were obviously expecting their raid party to do, since this Death Eater had so quickly jumped at the sound of it.  
  
“This is crazy.” Hermione whispered under her breath as the three of them took hold of some part of the Death Eater’s arms or torso and between them managed to drag him deeper into the reception room. Once he was tucked away as close to the far wall and out of the way of anyone coming in or out of the Floo, Hermione cast a Notice-Me-Not charm, which would be effective as long as no one tripped over his body.   
  
“Come on.” Hermione took the lead in creeping towards the ajar door. She was about to peek out into the Foyer beyond the little room they had landed in, but Harry tugged her back before she could get any closer to the shaft of light that was streaming in from the brightly lit room beyond.  
  
“Wait, I have the cloak.” Harry pulled the half forgotten invisibility cloak out of his pocket, “We’ll have to stick to the shadows, I don’t think it will cover our feet. But it’s better than nothing.”  
  
The three of them squeezed underneath it, but they weren’t eleven years old anymore and Harry had been right, a good portion of their feet and ankles were showing. At the very least it would help them creep around the edges of the large house, hopefully without being spotted.  
  
“Do you feel anything from Voldemort?” Hermione asked in a low whisper in his ear. Harry took stock for a moment, he didn’t feel a thing. If Voldemort was in the building he was sure to feel some kind of twinge or ache from the cursed scar on his head, but there wasn’t even a low buzz of discomfort to disclose Voldemort’s whereabouts.  
  
“No.” Harry answered, “I don’t think he’s here, maybe the attack on Hogwarts was a diversion for something else?” Harry tried to step out but Ron grabbed his arm.  
  
“Wait. Listen.” Ron said, and he urged them all closer to the door so they could listen to the loud conversation beyond.  
  
“ _ Do you think the Dark Lord will return soon?”  _ The voice echoed around the large cavernous Entrance Hall, “ _ I need a piss before he makes us torture that brat again.”  _ Harry’s hands balled into fists as he attempted to hold himself together. He couldn’t let anyone know they were here, not until they’d found Draco.  
  
_ “Go for a fucking piss then! But don’t blame me when he has your head for not being here when he returns. _ ” They heard hurried footsteps disappearing from their range of hearing and then a half yelled, “ _ Fucking newbie!”  _ and then silence.  
  
“Now, go.” Harry edged around the open door slowly at Ron’s urging.  
  
Harry knew exactly where the voices had come from, the reception room brought them out to the Foyer and from there they would need to cross the Entrance Hall, bypassing the double curved staircases, and then take an immediate left. It was a straight shot then, down the hallway to the first set of descending stairs which will take them directly to the dungeons. All in all, it should be relatively easy to find him and escape unharmed. That’s if they didn’t run into any more Death Eaters. And if they managed to leave the Manor before the other Death Eaters returned (those who hadn’t been killed or captured at Hogwarts) . _ And _ if they didn’t run into Voldemort.   
  
There were a lot of ‘If’ scenarios. Harry thought back to the small vial of liquid luck that was balled up inside his socks, safely stashed inside his trunk in Hogwarts. It would have been very useful about now, and he had half a mind to make sure he was carrying it on his person at all times in the future.  
  
Their first few steps across the marble floor echoed loudly around the Foyer. Hermione quickly halted them before they could go any further, and she quickly cast a series of muffling spells and cushioning charms at their shoes before they continued on. They reached the next room quickly, and they paused half hidden behind the large open archway between the Foyer and the Entrance Hall. Harry felt comforted to know that he wasn’t by himself, he could feel Hermione’s hand clasped tightly around his left arm and Ron was leaning slightly against his shoulder as the much taller teenager tried to duck to stop the cloak from riding even further up his ankles.  
  
They could see the figure of a black cloaked Wizard standing with his back against the bannister of the balcony, he was facing away from them, and they were lucky that their footsteps hadn’t tipped him off. The Entrance Hall was huge, more than big enough to echo and amplify every little sound they might have made, had Hermione not muffled their shoes. Harry looked at the two staircases in front of them, they curved up in two sweeping inclines and fed into the balcony which overlooked exactly where they were standing. Harry put all of his hope in the invisibility cloak as he began to lead the way forward.  
  
Their steps were slow but their strides were long as they tried to cross the Entrance Hall as quickly and as quietly as possible. Harry heard shuffling up above and he looked up just as the Death Eater tried to turn around-  
  
“ _ Have you ever been to the shitter on the next floor up?”  _ The second wizard returned, and pulled the Death Eaters attention away from the floor below him. His footsteps were heavy and loud and Harry took the opportunity to dash forward, using those loud footsteps to hide the sound of their own muffled shuffle, “ _ It’s got gold fucking taps. I might snap one off and sell it.”  
  
_ They were below the balcony now, safe from any prying eyes from above. The ballroom was in front of them, with the doors thrown wide open to give them a glance at the former opulence within, Harry could imagine Mrs Malfoy dressed in her finest robes, greeting Purebloods and welcoming them into her home. But now the room was utterly destroyed. Harry could see the floor covered in shards of broken crystal from one of the chandeliers that was hanging precariously from the ceiling, looking as though it was about to fall at any second. The huge framed portraits were empty and the golden frames were black and charred, the tapestries hanging from the ceiling were half burnt and destroyed. It looked like a mere ghost of its former glory.  
  
Harry took a second to marvel at the Manor itself as they took a moment to pause under the balcony and listen out for any more approaching footsteps. It was beautiful, all stone and marble and intricately carved architecture. Surrounded by portraits and landscapes framed in gold, and tapestries which hung from the high ceiling and ended a perfect inch above the skirting boards. Harry could imagine Draco in this space, not the Draco that he cuddled with, or the Draco that threw his arms around Harry’s neck and kissed him soundly on the mouth, but the Draco who would purse his lips at Harry’s bad manners, the Draco who kept himself poised in front of the rest of the Slytherin House. The pureblood side of Draco.  
  
“Let’s go.” Ron urged. The coast was completely clear, they could hear the conversation above them but no one seemed to be approaching them from the floor they were on.  
  
“Can you feel Draco?” Hermione whispered.  
  
“No, I can’t feel anything.” Harry admitted. He reached deep inside his mind, trying to find that part of him that was so intrinsically connected to his Soulmate. He could feel something, but it was muted, nothing at all like the agony he had felt when the Death Eater had cast Crucio on Draco. They skirted around the staircase, avoiding a beautifully carved table that was left broken in the centre of the circular room. Harry could almost imagine it being set with a vase full of flowers, Mrs Malfoy’s personal touch.  
  
“Left.” Harry whispered once they had reached the corner. He had studied the map so much once he had found out that Draco was in the Manor. He had imagined himself storming the walls and smuggling Draco out. He had taken this path in his mind hundreds of times, only this was the first time he had ever actually done it, and he couldn’t have predicted the scale of the Manor from a crudely drawn map on a piece of parchment.  
  
They stopped at the corner and flattened themselves against the wall. Ron was the closest, so he took a deep breath and peeked around the corner. Once. Twice. And on the third time, he gestured for them to follow him. There were a lot of doors leading out from the wide hallway and they paused as they reached the first one.  
  
“I hear something.” Ron murmured from his place at the front of the trio, “Stop here.” Once again they flattened themselves against the wall and tried to make themselves as small as possible. Harry’s knees groaned at the long held crouch and he hated to think how Ron was doing.  
  
Footsteps approached.  
  
“I can’t believe you snatched him!” Was followed by a loud guffaw of glee, “I can’t wait to get my hands on him. Pay back all that torture the Dark Lord put us through.” The second man merely grunted in reply. Harry leaned out from behind Ron’s shoulder and watched the two Wizards who were patrolling down the hall.  
  
“Who do you think will get a go at him first?” The one speaking was small and thin, obviously new to Voldemort's regime. The other was Fenrir Greyback. Harry hadn’t been able to see much of him in the dark dungeons of Hogwarts, but the hallway they were in was well lit and Harry was more than capable of seeing the deep scars on his face, his wild hair, his broad frame. He towered over the smaller Death Eater and the scowl on his face didn’t seem to be enough to discourage him from prattling on.  
  
“I hope it’s me!”  
  
“Silence!” Greyback finally snapped, he bared his teeth and growled dangerously. They were barely six feet away from the trio now, and any hope of them walking past quickly was dashed when Greyback caught the other Death Eater by the throat and dragged him close to his gnashing teeth. Harry could hear Hermione’s small gasp against his shoulder.  
  
“You are a maggot to the Dark Lord! You wouldn’t even be allowed to touch his shit. The prisoner will be kept until the Dark Lord's return. If you’re lucky you might be left to enjoy the leftovers.” Greyback grinned, and bared his sharp teeth it was every bit as feral as the look in his eyes, “The boy is a pretty one, even his corpse could provide some use, if he isn’t driven mad before then.”   
  
Ron’s arm shot across Harry’s chest and anchored him to the wall before Harry could even think about the aborted step forward that he had just tried to take. The cloak would surely have fallen from his head and he would have exposed all three of them to the two Death Eaters. Hermione held his wrist tightly and out of the corner of his eye he could see her shaking her head at him. Urging him to be quiet and to have some sense. What they were hearing was good news. Voldemort wasn’t in the Manor, and Draco wasn’t being physically harmed. They were all just words. Words that neither of them would be able to act upon because they will have found Draco before anyone even knew they were there.  
  
“You’re wrong! The Dark Lord holds me in very high regard and-”  
  
“Silence!” Greyback snapped once more, he threw the man to the ground and he aimed his nose up at the air around them. Like a dog.  
  
“Someone is here.”  
  
The three of them froze. Harry didn’t think he would be able to breathe even if he tried to force the air out of his lungs. Hermione’s grip only tightened around his wrist and Ron’s fingers twisted into the chest of Harry’s school robe where his arm was still holding him tight against the wall. Greyback breathed deeply, using the senses of his other form to try and pinpoint the scent of intruders.  
  
“Greyback?” A call came from the other end of the Hall, “Have you seen to the treaty between your pack and the northern werewolves? The Dark Lord expects it to be completed before his return.” This was a Death Eater Harry recognised, Walden Macnair, Harry hadn’t seen him since he had been sent to execute Buckbeak in his third year, but there was no denying that it was him.  
  
Greyback sneered at the new arrival before turning from Macnair and the Death Eater at his feet and stalking off down the hall. He disappeared around the far corner, the scent of intruders forgotten and his patrol abandoned.  
  
“What are you doing on the floor? Get to your feet, you represent the Dark Lord, you are not a floor dwelling Mudblood.” The Death Eater did as he said and he scurried away, following in Greyback's footsteps and disappearing down the far end of the corridor. Macnair simply turned his back and walked back the way he had come.  
  
All three of them breathed deeply. Ron’s arm fell from his chest and Hermione’s hand fell from his wrist and finally they were able to creep forwards. Harry’s knees cracked slightly as he stood up straight once more and the ache in his calves and thighs eased almost immediately. They crossed in front of a number of open and closed doors to find their way to the dungeon stairs. Harry knew that one of them was the office that Voldemort had claimed, but there was still no reaction from his scar. Had they really been so lucky? Had Voldemort really left the Manor? Harry managed to glance at some of the rooms that Draco would have had access to while growing up, a music room with a large grand piano and a dusty violin sat in the corner, sitting rooms of various grandeurs and formalities, and a room devoted entirely to a single table and a scattered chess board, which Harry had no doubt would have always been set and ready to play at a moments notice. Finally, they came to the top of a flight of stairs. They stood on the top step and looked down into the darkness below.   
  
“Are you sure?” Ron asked.  
  
“Pretty sure.” Harry replied. He knew the dungeons were down there, he just didn’t know if Draco was in them.  
  
“Right, great.” Ron’s sarcasm wasn’t lost on him in the slightest, but in the circumstances he felt he could probably ignore it.  
  
“Come on, we can’t stay out here.” Hermione poked them both in the back, urging them down the stairs and into the darkness below.  
  
“Wait-” Harry said, pausing on the fourth step down, “Do you hear that?” There was a faint sobbing coming from below them. Harry tried to look around him to meet Ron and Hermione’s eyes but it was so dark that he could barely see further than the end of his nose, “Come on.”  
  
At the bottom of the stone steps was a door made of solid iron bars. Harry tried to wrap his fingers around the bars but his hands got caught up in the material of the invisibility cloak. He ripped the material off his head hastily and again reached out to the bars. He could hear Ron fumbling with the cloak behind him, stuffing it away under his jumper so that his hands were still free to use his wand.  
  
“Hermione, do you think you can get this open?”   
  
“I can try.” Harry felt her hands patting at his arm as she tried to find her way to the bars, “Do you think we can get away with a Lumos? I can’t see anything.” Hermione whispered.  
  
“Ron?” A low Lumos sent a soft glow across the narrow stone walls that boxed them in, the bars were thick and old but they were in perfect condition, and Harry could feel the magic that was imbued into the iron. He could hear the sobbing now, and a low rhythmic shushing as though one person was comforting another.  
  
“I think we’ll have to blast our way through.” Hermione said, “Stand back.” Harry joined Ron back on the steps and watched Hermione in her element, “We’ll have to be quick, I don’t know how much noise this is going to make.”  
  
“I’ll keep a lookout, you guys get in and out.” Ron said as he cast a Muffliato around the stairs in a bid to contain most of the noise they were about to make.  
  
“Bombarda Maxima!” The thick bars were blasted out of their sockets, leaving gaping holes in the stone and sending the iron clattering to the ground. The sound echoed around the large chamber that sat below the ballroom, “Lumos Maxima!” Light burst from the end of Hermione’s wand and the entire room was suddenly lit from corner to corner.  
  
Harry’s eyes passed over the bones of rodents, the remains of humans, the chains that hung from the walls, a collection of broken wands against the base of a large pillar, and in the far corner of the chamber (as far from the entrance as physically possible) were two men sitting by the side of a third. Harry ran across the floor of the single massive dungeon, with Hermione close on his heels. He only needed the briefest glimpse of almost white blonde hair to know that it was Draco who was lying on the floor, he would recognise that hair from a mile away. Harry rushed to his side, he could hear the sobs now, clear as day, and they were coming directly from his Soulmate.  
  
“Darling.” Harry fell to his knees next to Draco and cupped his face in his hands, “I’m here.”  
  
“He hasn’t been here long. They dropped him off like this.” One of the Wizards sitting with him said.  
  
“Ha-” A long high pitched keen was ripped from Draco’s throat and he threw his head back against the stone floor and gasped for breath before finishing what he had begun to say, “Harry.” He gasped out.  
  
“I’m here.” Harry stoked at his face and his hair, patting him all over just to make sure that he was in one piece. And he was. In pain, and struggling to stay conscious, but in one piece.   
  
“The M-Mark. It hurts so much!” Draco cried out in agony as he grabbed at Harry’s arms and tried to anchor himself to Harry’s body, as though having him close would help to alleviate the torture coming from the Mark on his arm.  
  
“Merlin! It’s Harry Potter!” One of the men said, “No, no, no, you must not be here. You must go, before he returns. You cannot be captured!”  
  
“It’s okay-” Harry heard Hermione placating him but he paid them no attention. His eyes were fixed on Draco. He was lying on his side, curled up into the corner of the room with his left arm clutched to his chest. Harry knew that he was in so much pain, more so than anything Voldemort had inflicted so far. Voldemort had expected him to beg for mercy by now, but not even the months of long drawn out torture had been enough to break Draco. But this might finally give Voldemort what he wants. Draco Malfoy, begging for mercy.  
  
“I can’t feel you, why can’t I feel you?” Harry murmured desperately as he pushed Draco’s hair back and kissed him messily on the head and on each of his cheeks, comforting him as best he could.  
  
“Charms, on the Manor.” Draco groaned out in between great halting gasps.  
  
“I believe we should go.” Harry recognised that voice, but he wasn’t in the right frame of mind to figure out where from so he ignored it for the time being.  
  
“Mr Ollivander?” Harry heard Hermione say from behind him.   
  
“Ah, don’t tell me, Vinewood with a Dragon Heartstring…I remember all of them you see...”   
  
“I’m sorry.” The other man was by Draco’s side once again, he was older, fatherly, and he stroked Draco’s arm like a Father would to his sick son, “I’m sorry, my son started this. He shouldn’t have, but he did it for me you see.” Harry finally looked at him properly and as though he was remembering a dream of a dream Harry recognised him. The man from his vision, the Father of the student who had attacked Draco all those months ago, sparking off a series of events that had messed up months of their lives. Draco sobbed again and the man simply repeated himself, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry for your pain.”   
  
“Harry.” Draco grabbed his arm and squeezed, “The spell.”  
  
“What?”  
  
“The-” Draco choked on his words and his fingers tightened on Harry’s arm as he gasped through the waves of agony, “The spell. The connection. S-sever the connection.” With great difficulty, and between heaving gasps of anguish Draco rolled his sleeve up and bared his arm to Harry. The Dark Mark was inlaid into his arm, dark and harsh against Draco’s usually fair skin. “Please. Please.” Draco pawed at him, dragging him close and tugging at his clothes in complete desperation. His forehead was covered in a thin sheen of sweat, and his skin was pallid and grey. He was holding on through the torture as much as he could but Harry knew him well enough to know that he was gripping onto the edge of consciousness with every ounce of his stubbornness.   
  
“Please.” Draco pleaded with tears gathering at the corners of his eyes, “The spell.”  
  
“Okay.” Harry soothed him, “It’s okay.”  
  
“Do you know it?” Hermione asked from behind him. She had begun to move towards the open door, gently guiding the disorientated wand maker to the exit where Ron was standing.  
  
“Yeah, I think so.” Harry had read it over enough times to be able to cast it, he just hoped that he said it right in Parseltongue, there wasn’t anyone who could correct his pronunciation after all. He raised his wand, pointing the tip of it at the moving tattoo that covered almost the entirety of Draco’s forearm. He concentrated on the head of the snake, watched it move slightly under the surface of the skin and he began to speak, the hissing sounds left his mouth in a slow and rhythmic pattern as he spoke the words for the spell. Hoping with everything he had inside of him that the spell worked and worked well.  
  
As soon as the tip of Harry’s wand fell from its place against the Dark Mark, Draco slumped down to the floor. His entire body relaxed instantly as the pain finally drained away to nothingness. Not just the pain of the last hour, but the pain from the last few weeks, from the last few months. He had been living with it for so long that he had almost forgotten what it was like to live pain free.  
  
“Thank you love.” Draco’s speech was slow and slurred, but he was alive and he was whole. Harry clutched him close, cradling his head between his hands and taking the time to press comforting kisses against his forehead.   
  
“We need to go!” Came Ron’s yell across the Chamber, it echoed between the pillars and bounced off the walls until they were surrounded by Ron’s slowly fading yell.  
  
“Come on.” Harry hooked his hands underneath Draco’s armpits and tried to haul him to his feet, “Darling, we have to go.” Harry pushed his blonde hair back and tried to urge him up.  
  
“Okay-”   
  
And then Draco passed out. Going boneless in Harry’s arms and slumping against his chest. Harry fumbled with him, but he couldn’t support the sudden increase in weight and he fell to his knees once more, with Draco half lying across him completely oblivious to anything but the well needed (although poorly timed) dream state he had fallen into.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this one had about three re-writes haha
> 
> Love you all. Thanks for all the Kudos and the comments! I always love getting those little emails :)


	58. Chapter 58

“We need to go!” Ron came running towards them, abandoning his post at the foot of the stairs and leaving a weary Ollivander sitting on the bottom step.  
  
“I can carry him.” Harry offered, “Or I could levitate him.”  
  
“We need as many wands as possible.” Ron’s words were rushed, and he was shaking his head violently at Harry’s suggestion, “And we won’t be able to sneak around levitating him about.” Harry didn’t know what he had heard on the next floor up but it was enough to spook him into action.  
  
“I could carry him?” The Wizard at Harry’s side offered. Ron looked at him for a second, he was older but by no means elderly, though Ron was more concerned with how fragile he looked. He had obviously been locked up for a long time, he was unnaturally thin, with sallow skin, and a gaunt face.  
  
“I’m sorry but you wouldn’t last two minutes.” Ron said honestly, the other Wizard didn’t seem to take offence, he nodded calmly in agreement and looked back at the passed out blonde laid across Harry’s lap.  
  
“I have an idea.” Hermione piped up, “But it’s not very nice.” She pointed her wand at Draco and without an explanation and before Harry could stop her she cast, “Enervate.”  
  
The effect was instantaneous. Draco sat up so suddenly he almost knocked heads with Harry, who had been leaning close to his face. He drew in a deep rattling breath. It was almost as though a massive weight had been lifted from his chest, leaving him finally able to breathe properly. He was silent for a few moments, and he blinked three times in quick succession, almost as if to blink away the sluggishness that had come from his brief fainting spell. He looked at Harry with hazy eyes and Harry had a feeling that just because he was awake it didn’t necessarily mean he was completely cognizant.  
  
“Draco?” Harry stroked across Draco’s cheek with his palm and tried to coax some sort of recognition from his clouded eyes.  
  
“We’ve no time for this. You’re in charge of him.” Ron pointed to the older man who was yet to leave Draco’s side, “If anything happens to him-”`  
  
“I will protect him to the best of my ability.” The Wizard said, and he pressed his hand to his heart and bowed his head.  
  
“What’s your name?” Harry asked finally, he had a right to know who was willing to put their life at risk to protect his Soulmate.  
  
“Octavius. Octavius Pepper.” Harry nodded to him in thanks as he reached down and helped Draco to his feet. Harry followed suit. Draco swayed slightly but he didn’t fall again.  
  
“We need to go. Right now. Some of the Death Eaters managed to escape Hogwarts and they’re already back. We need to get back to the fireplace.” Ron urged, trying his best to corral them towards the exit.  
  
“The Floo will be sealed.” Hermione responded from his side. Her eyes were wide and frightened but she didn’t hesitate in following Ron to the exit.  
  
“Then we go to Hogsmeade, the Three Broomsticks.” Harry chimed in, he had seen people come and go through the fireplace in the pub dozens of times. He just had to hope that it hadn’t been closed to protect the castle, he had a feeling that Madam Rosmerta would have had something to say about Hogwarts cutting off her patrons.  
  
Harry ushered them all towards the door and the darkened stairs beyond. Hermione and Harry took the lead, followed by Ollivander, and Octavius Pepper who had been put in charge of protecting Draco. Ron brought up the rear. Harry glanced over his shoulder to catch a quick look at Draco who was being led forward by a guiding hand on his shoulder. He hadn’t yet said a word since being enervated, but Harry was sure that he was beginning to regain his faculties. His eyes were beginning to dart between them all, his footsteps were becoming more sure, and his feet had stopped scuffing against the ground. Harry had been in the hazy world of a forced Enervate before and it always took a couple of minutes to figure out exactly where you were and what had happened.  
  
“We might have a clear exit.” Harry hissed to those who were gathered behind him, waiting for his go ahead to leave the darkened staircase and venture out into the main body of the house. Harry crept forwards with Hermione at his side. They moved a lot quicker than they had on their arrival, favouring speed over finesse. They could hear the jubilation of the Death Eaters who had managed to return from Hogwarts, and it was only a matter of time before someone ventured out into the hall.  
  
“ _Sliced them from neck to cock I did!_ ” The claim was met with a loud round of guffaws coming from the open doors of the destroyed ballroom. Harry’s stomach clenched in sorrow as he imagined who the Death Eater could have killed, McGonagall? Flitwick? Ernie Macmillan? Any one of the Hogwarts students or teachers who had met the Death Eaters head to head. Harry looked at Hermione, she had one hand covering her mouth as she tried not to cry in despair. Harry knew the same thought would be flying through her mind as well.  
  
“ _No you fucking didn’t! Barely landed a scratch on him!_ ” Someone else refuted, to another round of cheers and jibes. The knot of sorrow loosened and he could hear Hermione pulling in a deep breath of relief.  
  
They were approaching the open doors of the ballroom, the closer they came the more their footsteps slowed, the more measured they were with every step and every shuffle, which brought them closer and closer to the loud celebrations inside the Ballroom. Harry could see the corner they were to turn left at, and beyond the corner were the ballroom doors. There were only a few feet between the two, but hopefully that would be just enough for them to creep around and disappear unnoticed through to the Entrance Hall. It would only take someone passing by the doors to see them. They would need to be quick.   
  
“Potter!” The tip of a wand met the skin of his cheek, at the same time as his name was hissed venomously from the person in front of them. Harry had been so concerned about the ballroom that he hadn’t thought to check around the corner first. He was sure it was a mistake he wouldn’t live long enough to regret.   
  
Hermione responded in kind, whipping her wand up the moment Harry’s name was uttered, but the damage was done, the tip of Pettigrew's wand was already pressing up against his cheek bone. Harry could hear the shuffling behind him, he knew Ron had his wand in his hand though there wasn’t much he could do from his position and moving around the group would risk exposing them all to the Death Eaters in the room behind them. Harry could hear Ollivander whispering under his breath, “ _Chestnut, Dragon Heartstring, brittle._ ” but he couldn’t focus on much more than that, not when the cold tip of a wand was pressed against his skin. A wand which he recognised. Draco had been given Pettigrew’s wand when he had returned to Hogwarts all those months ago.   
  
“At last, my Lord will reward me greatly. Too many times have you slipped away, but no more-” Pettigrew continued to speak but Harry was distracted by a strong and steady hand pressing against his waist. Pettigrew must have been too absorbed in his gloating (“ _I will prove that I am a most loyal Follower. I alone will deliver Potter and the Malfoy Child to his feet!”)_ to even notice Draco approaching Harry from behind.  
  
“Life debt.” Draco whispered in his ear. The first words that he had uttered since he had been awakened, and two words which would save all of their lives. That intelligent, wonderful, sneaky, Slytherin.  
  
“Lower your wand girl, or I shall kill your Chosen One.” Hermione’s hand quivered in midair. She looked to Harry for instructions but Harry didn’t meet her eyes.   
  
“Peter Pettigrew, I am owed a life debt.” Harry said quickly before his Father’s old friend could speak another word. The others behind him were stock still, frozen and pressed against the wall fearing that whatever action they took would result in Harry’s murder. Hermione was quivering by his side but she held her wand as steadily as she could, Harry admired her for that, a steely resolve even in the face of sudden death. Pettigrew's mouth snapped shut as the magic of the life debt was called forward.   
  
“You will not speak a word of us being here.” Harry looked at the wand in his hand, “And give me your wand.” Pettigrew’s arm stretched out, almost against his will, and the dark wooded wand was dropped into Harry’s awaiting palm, “The debt is repaid. Now go.” Pettigrew turned and disappeared through a door that closed behind him with a quiet snap. They had been lucky, Pettigrew had wanted to deliver them to Voldemort himself, he hadn’t raised the alarm when he had spotted them.  
  
“Here.” Harry passed the wand back to Draco and went to turn the corner properly, eager to put distance between them and the Death Eaters who were settling into a round of Firewhiskey in the Ballroom behind them.  
  
“We can’t leave.” Draco said quietly. He caught the sleeve of Harry’s robe and tugged him back. “We need to get to my Father’s office.”  
  
“No, we have to leave.” Hermione said, trying to convince Harry not to go along with another unnecessary plan before they had even pulled off the first one.  
  
“You don’t understand. We need to go to my Father’s office to reset the wards. I can’t let them stay here any longer.” Draco looked at Harry desperately, “It’s my home. This may be my only chance.” Harry remembered Mrs Malfoy saying that the wards could only be changed from inside the Manor. But was it worth it? Harry gazed back at Draco, he was holding onto the sleeve of Harry’s robe desperately, his eyes were wide and beseeching and Harry knew even if he were to leave right now Draco would stay behind.  
  
“Okay.” Harry nodded, “Ron, Hermione, get those two out through the Floo. Ron pass me the cloak.” Harry took the offered item, “Floo to Hogsmeade and get yourselves up to the Castle you might need to use one of the secret tunnels. Go straight to Dumbledore’s office and tell him where we are, just in case we don’t make it back.” They looked like they were about to argue with him, but Ollivander patted Hermione’s shoulder and began to take the lead.  
  
“The wand chooses the Wizard,” Ollivander said to himself, “A powerful wand for a powerful wizard. I always knew…” He muttered to himself, “Curious wand. Very curious.”   
  
“But-” Hermione tried to argue once again, torn between catching up with the wandmaker who was walking into completely unknown territory without a wand. Or staying and convincing Harry to stop being such an idiot.  
  
“We’ll be okay and we won’t be long. We’ll meet you back at Hogwarts.” Draco encouraged her to leave them, and gently shoved Ron’s shoulder to push him in the same direction, “Go.”   
  
Harry waited until the four of them had turned the corner and disappeared from view, albeit reluctantly, before throwing the invisibility cloak over both of them. Draco took his hand and began to tug him further down the hallway, bypassing the turn that would have taken them towards the Entrance Hall and Foyer and continuing on further into the Manor. They passed in front of the open doors, the invisibility cloak doing a perfect job of hiding them both from anyone’s sight, they would not have been successful in continuing unnoticed had they attempted it as a group.  
  
“We’re going upstairs, to the upper floor of the library, there’s a secret entrance to my Father’s Office, my Father showed me once when I was younger.” Draco whispered as they walked down the other side of the Hallway, passing the open doors of more grand rooms. Harry had to take a second glance through the door to the Gold Dining Room, the one he had seen once before, in a faraway dream, through the eyes of someone else.  
  
“Here.” Draco whispered, leading them up a half hidden flight of stairs, “I used to use these stairs rather than the main ones, they were closest to my bedroom. My Mother used to tell me off, she said the back stairs were only for the help.” Harry smiled despite their current predicament, he could imagine a little Draco being scolded by his Mother for not following proper etiquette.  
  
“This way.” Draco crept along the upper corridor. He paused for a brief moment in front of a pair of double doors, and Harry knew they would have led them into Draco’s old bedroom. He squeezed Draco’s hand in support, his room had been destroyed last year when they had helped Mrs Malfoy escape from the Manor. Draco had once been very fond of his rooms and Harry could read the sorrow on his face as clear as day. Personally he had no emotional ties to anything in the Dursleys House, but it didn’t mean he couldn’t understand why Draco was so upset about his beautiful bedroom being destroyed. Last summer it had been repaired to the point of holding out the elements, but it was still sealed off to everyone due to safety reasons.   
  
Once the moment of sorrow had passed Draco led Harry on. They followed the upper hallway until its end, trying their best to keep to the shadowed walls and sprinting across open doorways in case someone was inside. They were lucky. They didn’t come across anyone in the upper levels of the house and they reached the library with relative ease. Harry felt like he should have been suspicious of that, but he wasn’t one to look a gift horse in the mouth. Draco slipped out from under the cloak once they reached the upper floor of the library and he looked down to the floor below.   
  
He leaned heavily against the balcony bannister, and stared down in dismay at the debris that littered the entire floor. All the bookshelves in the room had almost been completely emptied and the books were strewn about the place. Harry remembered they had been looking for Tom Riddle’s diary, but they must have gotten bored. Some of the ancient tomes had holes burned right through them. Some were scorched at the edges. Some had pages ripped clear from the spine. The damage inflicted was careless and unnecessary, and although he wasn’t a lover of books even Harry could look down in sadness at the destruction the Death Eaters had brought to the place. Harry placed a hand on Draco’s shoulder, it was a weak and rather pathetic attempt to comfort him and it didn’t seem to be working in the slightest.  
  
“This Manor was built in the Eleventh Century.” Draco started to speak, his voice was quiet and he sounded as far away as the century he was talking about, “My ancestor Armand Malfoy built it after he entered the country with the Norman Invasion in 1066. It has stood here for centuries, never changing or falling. I’ve been Lord Malfoy for less than a year, and look at the legacy _I_ am leaving.”  
  
“I’m sorry.” Harry said softly, trying not to break the trance that Draco had found himself in as he looked at the destroyed library, it looked as though the Death Eaters had started using the books for target practice, Harry wouldn’t put it past them.  
  
“My Father would have stopped them from doing this. He would have protected what he could. The books. The portraits. The tapestries.” Draco listed slowly and his eyes darted to each item in turn, “They have turned my home into their own personal playground.”  
  
“We’ll set everything right again.” Harry assured him.  
  
“Yes,” Draco nodded sadly, “We will.” He stepped away from the bannister and continued on around the upper level. It would have been a gallery of some sort, with golden frames spaced at equal distances around the circular upper level. They were all empty of course, but Harry could imagine Draco’s ancestors staring down at the Library below, overlooking their fortune.   
  
Harry’s eye twitched as a sudden shot of pain raced down the length of his scar. It was gone as soon as it arrived, but it left his eyes watering and his hand shooting up to his forehead to rub away the memory of the pain. There was only one reason his scar would hurt. Draco was walking in front of him, so he hadn’t seen Harry stop and rub at his head. Harry opened his mouth to mention it, but at that moment Draco stopped rather abruptly in front of a blank expanse of white stone wall and Harry almost ran right into the back of him. The pain in his head was forgotten as Draco stared at the wall with as much intensity as he would a list of Potions ingredients.  
  
“My Father said this was a secret passed down from generation to generation. He said he didn’t want to show me because he didn’t trust me in his office. But if the gates of the Manor were ever breached then this room would seal itself off and no one could gain entrance unless they knew the secret.” Draco raised the wand that wasn’t his, he had thought that he was rid of it when he had sent it back to Pettigrew once Harry had returned his own, but here he was again, holding this wretched wand that fought his magic every time he tried to use it. He began to tap a pattern against the stone bricks.  
  
“It had to be simple enough for a child to gain entrance, but complicated enough that no one would stumble across it.” Draco explained, and he finished his pattern of taps with a quick rap of three in the centre of the pattern he had just made. The stone drew back in front of them, leaving a gap four foot high and just wide enough for one person to wiggle through at a time, “I’ve never had to use it before.”   
  
The study was entirely what Harry had expected of Lucius Malfoy. The walls were covered in various bookcases full of books that were probably too rare and expensive to have in the main Library. A large heavy wooden desk, covered in delicate carvings and gold leaf accents stood towards the centre of the room, on one side was a large wingback leather chair, and standing on the other side were two others. The desk wasn’t cluttered, and the bookshelves lacked the various trinkets that gave a room that personal finishing touch. It spoke of someone who preferred form over function and Harry had no doubt that Lucius Malfoy was indeed that type of person. The most impressive part of the room was a large single portrait, which was hung behind the desk and filled the wall from floor to ceiling. An old man sporting the familiar Malfoy blonde hair and the Malfoy smirk loomed over them, staring at them from his painted armchair.  
  
“It has been some time boy!” The man in the portrait barked, “Someone has been trying to force the door, they do not know that they will never be able to gain entrance.”  
  
“Great-Grandfather Septimius.” Draco bowed his head slightly to the portrait, giving him the respect that Harry wasn’t sure a portrait even deserved, especially not after calling him ‘Boy’ (it wasn’t a nickname that gave Harry fond memories to say the least). Another shot of burning pain above his eye had Harry once again lifting his hand to his head, but he didn’t interrupt Draco. He had a feeling this was important.  
  
“I am here to reset the wards. The Manor has been infiltrated by the enemy.”  
  
“And who are you Child?” The Portrait looked down upon him, completely ignoring Harry’s presence entirely. Harry had a feeling that even if the man were alive and in the room that he would be ignored. Even standing in his pyjamas Draco looked more like a Pureblood than Harry did fully dressed in his jeans and Gryffindor robe.  
  
“I am Lord Draco Lucius Abraxas Malfoy, Lord of Malfoy Manor, Lord of the Malfoy name, Lord to the Ancient House of Lestrange, Heir to the Ancient House of Black. I beseech that you allow me entrance to reset the wards and reclaim Malfoy Manor from those who wish it harm.” Draco raised his chin to meet the eyes of the portrait, his shoulders were squared, his back was ramrod straight, he stood like a Pureblood, he spoke like a Pureblood, and he looked every bit deserving of the title that had been passed down to him. And Merlin, Harry loved every single part of him.   
  
“Lord Draco of Malfoy, Lord Draco of Lestrange, Heir Draco of Black. Your entrance is granted.” The golden frame of the portrait swung forwards and Harry peered around Draco to see what all the fuss was about. Behind it was nothing but a solid stone wall, except for one single missing brick in the exact centre. In the hollow where a brick was supposed to be stood a golden case, held closed by nothing more than a tiny golden clasp. Draco reached out and picked it up in both hands, and by the way he was handling it Harry had a feeling that it was made out of solid gold, with all the weight of solid gold as well. The portrait frame swung closed, leaving Harry and Draco standing in the middle of the office with a small solid gold box. Draco placed it upon the desk, and very carefully he opened the delicate catch and swung the lid open. Inside was nothing more than a single rolled up parchment. It was old, Harry could tell that much from the yellowed colour of it.  
  
“If anyone else were to get their hands on this-” Draco looked up to Harry, to impress upon him the importance of this single piece of parchment and Harry had to blink away the tears that had collected in his watery eyes at the force of the shooting pain, “They will be able to rewrite the wards entirely and take over the manor. This spell hasn’t been cast in centuries. The family had always relied upon the passing of the Lord title to reset the wards and keep out anyone who may have fallen out of favour with the family.”  
  
“Ostium-” Draco began to read from the parchment in fluent Latin, “-Dedit Et Sanguis Meus. Entrance granted to my blood.” He paused and drew his bottom lip between his teeth to worry at the delicate skin, “I didn’t know the exact wording. I don’t think I can do this with you in the house. You would be forced out to the outer barrier of the wards along with everyone else.”  
  
“Hey,” Harry gripped Draco by the shoulders and turned him so that they were facing each other. With his thumb he gently peeled Draco’s bottom lip away from his teeth and kissed the sting away (ignoring the flabbergasted “ _Well I never”_ from the Portrait towering above their heads), “It’s okay.” Harry kissed him again. They hadn’t had a chance to take comfort in each other and Harry took a moment to savour the feeling of Draco being alive and well under his hands, and continued to ignore the gradual increase of pain in his head. Draco was tired still, Harry could see the purple circles under his eyes, and he hadn’t been as good at hiding the twitching of his left arm as he thought, but Harry didn’t want to draw attention to it until they were away from imminent death.  
  
“Now.” Harry pulled away and placed his hands on Draco’s shoulders to hold him still under his gaze, “Is that fireplace connected to the network?” Harry needed to make sure they had a quick escape if Voldemort returned to the manor while they were still there. And he had no doubt that would be soon, very soon. He had to squeeze his eyes closed tightly as the pain lingered longer than it had done in the past few minutes. This time it didn’t escape Draco’s notice.  
  
“Oh...Yes, yes I think so. My Father used to travel to and from the Ministry without leaving his office. Harry, are you alright?”  
  
“I think Voldemort’s on his way, I don’t think we should stay for much longer.” Harry finally admitted. Draco’s hands landed on his arms and he squeezed Harry’s biceps tightly as he tried to process that bit of information.  
  
“This is the safest room in the Manor, and I can’t leave without doing this.” Draco looked down at the parchment which had curled back up on itself without Draco’s hands to hold it open, “But you go, I can’t do this with you here, and the closer he gets the worse you’ll get.”  
  
“Are you sure?” Harry asked. He had to grip onto the edge of the table, and lean against Draco’s arm for support as the pain in his head knocked him off balance. Voldemort was getting closer.  
  
“Yes. Go, Harry. This will only take a minute and I’ll follow you right afterwards. Please, go.” Draco urged around the desk and towards the dormant fireplace.  
  
“Floo powder?” Harry set the old logs aflame with a single spell.  
  
“That box, I believe.” Draco pointed to a small silver lidded case on top of the mantle piece. A far cry from the plant pot that the Weasleys used.  
  
“I’ll wait for you in the Three Broomsticks if I get through.” Harry pulled him into one last kiss, “Perform the spell and come meet me. Don’t go walking around the Manor, last time Voldemort left traps and curses and we don’t know that he hasn’t done the same in case he’s forced out again.” Harry leaned against the desk for a moment as black spots danced in front of his vision.  
  
“Okay.” Draco nodded in agreement.  
  
“I love you.” Harry said with a supportive smile and ignoring the pain in his head (it wasn’t as though Draco hadn’t gone through much worse that evening, or even that month). He stepped into the green flames, ignored the apprehension that was starting to curl around his gut and said clearly, “The Three Broomsticks!”   
  
Harry dropped his handful of powder into the fire. The last thing he saw was Draco’s worried expression, staring at him with wide, expressive grey eyes, the Pureblood Draco that had stood in front of his Great Grandfather was replaced with the Draco that Harry knew. The one that pulled him into alcoves to kiss him, the one that got cuddly when he was sleepy, the one who loved him so unconditionally that Harry felt like his heart might burst if he thought about it for too long. And then Draco was gone, and Harry was rushing through the Floo system at breakneck speed, flashes of fireplaces streamed past his vision making him dizzy and disorientated. Until it all stopped and he was being thrown forward out of the fireplace. He just had to really fucking hope that he was where he needed to be.


	59. Chapter 59

Harry pulled himself to his feet, having landed on his arse like he always did when travelling via Floo, and looked around at the Three Broomsticks. Empty. With abandoned tankards and goblets strewn about the tables and floor and the odd forgotten cloak or two hanging off the back of a chair. He should have expected it to be like this, an attack on the castle would have most Witches and Wizards running for the hills.   
  
“Fled, they all did, when they heard the news.” Madam Rosmerta was sitting at one of the barstools. She was leaning one elbow on top of the bar to prop up her head and holding a pint of something in her other hand.  
  
“Almost scared me out of my boots when Ollivander stepped out of the fire.” She continued, with a wave of the glass tankard towards said fireplace behind Harry.  
  
“My friends?” Harry asked, as he stepped around a couple of overturned chairs.  
  
“Aye, came through too, and another Man.” She nodded and took a swig of whatever was in the tankard, Harry would have thought it was beer but by the pinched expression she gave after every mouthful he had a feeling it was something a lot stronger, “Asked me to leave the fire open for you. Good friends you have.”  
  
“They’re two of the best, yeah.” Harry said slowly. He watched her take another swig of the alcohol, “Did they head up to the Castle?” He asked, when it seemed like she wasn’t going to offer any more information.  
  
“Aye. Much good that’ll do them though.” She tapped her fingernails against the glass and the ‘ _ tink, tink, tink’  _ filled the silence. Harry looked at her in confusion. The Death Eaters that had survived the battle had returned to Malfoy Manor, so he really didn’t understand what she was talking about.  
  
“The Death Eaters didn’t take the Castle, did they?” He asked, trying to get to the bottom of her half drunken statement,  
  
“No, not yet.” She laughed humourlessly, as though there was a joke somewhere in there that Harry was supposed to get.  
  
“Not yet?” Harry probed with his eyebrows drawn low, still confused.  
  
“Aye, only a matter of time.”  
  
“I don’t understand what you-”   
  
“Merlin!” Her exclamation cut him off mid sentence and her tankard fell to the bar top from her hand. It landed with a great thunk against the wood, but her Unbreakable charm held strong, while the firewhiskey within spilt all over the bar top.   
  
“You don’t know, do you?” She looked at him with her mouth hanging open and her hand still frozen in mid-air, holding nothing but air.  
  
Harry was about to question her further but the fire roared to life behind him and Draco stepped through. He grinned widely the moment he met Harry’s eyes and Harry instantly knew the spell had worked. Draco’s glee filled his head and he couldn’t stop the silent sigh of relief at having Draco’s emotions filtering through their connection once again. Harry grinned back, sharing in Draco’s delight for the first time in a long time. He had his home back.  
  
“Come on.” Draco reached for his hand and he threaded their fingers together with a reverence that came from surviving another near death experience. Harry waved goodbye to Madam Rosmerta and allowed Draco to lead them from the pub. He didn’t look back, if he had he would have seen the bartender's mouth opening and closing silently as she struggled to speak the words that someone had yelled into her pub less than an hour earlier. She was once again left alone in the pub with nothing but silence and a bottle of Firewhiskey to see her through the night. Tomorrow was bound to be a difficult day.  
  
“You did it?” Harry asked when the door closed behind them, putting them in the middle of Hogsmeade in the early hours of the morning. Harry couldn’t even begin to work out what time it was, or how long they had been gone from the Castle.  
  
“I did.” Draco grinned and pulled Harry into a kiss, both of his hands were fisted into the front of his knitted jumper and he held Harry close against his chest. Harry stroked his hands up and down Draco’s waist, only just remembering that he was actually in his pyjamas. He must have already cast a charm on his feet, which were bare, but he didn’t seem to be bothered by the cobblestones they were standing upon. When Draco released him, somewhat reluctantly, Harry pulled his Gryffindor robe from his shoulders and wrapped it tightly around Draco, finishing the chivalrous action with a gentle kiss to the tip of his curved nose. He felt calm and light-hearted for the first time in a long while. All he wanted to do was hold Draco, and delight in his presence. They knew who the little spy was in Hogwarts. They knew who had orchestrated everything. They knew that Voldemort’s plans were once again usurped with his denied entry to the Manor. Things seemed to be working out for them for once, for now, in any case.   
  
“You look good in red.” Harry laughed at the glare he was given and he quickly kissed away the response from the tip of Draco’s tongue.  
  
“Let’s get back to the Castle.” Harry happily followed Draco’s lead. They walked through the dark village, passing by empty shops and boarded up houses. Heading towards the Shrieking Shack, Harry would have preferred the tunnel underneath Honeydukes, but he wasn’t about to break into the shop.  
  
“I could sleep for a week.” Draco commented once the buildings were behind them and they were walking up the dirt path towards the shack.  
  
“You deserve to sleep for a week.” Harry replied, and squeezed the hand in his own tightly. Draco was silent for a few long moments, and they drew ever closer to the dilapidated house on the hill.  
  
“Thank you for breaking the connection.” He said quietly. The words hung heavily between them. It was the first time they had acknowledged it and Harry wasn’t quite sure what to say, he felt that ‘I told you so’ wouldn’t quite go down well.  
  
“It’s okay.” He decided on.  
  
“I should have let you do it weeks ago.” Draco continued on, “I should have trusted you.”  
  
“I didn’t know it would work, just as much as you. I suppose my Hero complex, as Hermione calls it, got the better of me.” Harry finally admitted. Sure he had hoped that it would work, but there was never any way to be certain of it.   
  
“But I should have known you wouldn’t cast a spell that you weren’t sure about.”   
  
“I’m a Gryffindor, remember, we rush in head first. But you...You’re a Slytherin. You wouldn’t be you if you didn’t question something that could put you in danger.”  
  
“But still-”  
  
“Draco.” Harry silenced him, and stopped him in his tracks, pulling him around until they were face to face once again, “What’s done is done. You trusted me when you needed me the most and that’s what’s important.” Harry brought his hands to cup Draco’s jaw and he pressed their lips together sweetly. Merlin, he could do that all day every day.  
  
They didn’t speak another word on the matter and continued with their heavy trudge up the hill to the house. Harry didn’t need to force the door open, it was shut but unlocked, possibly from the four who had gone ahead of them. Harry led the way through the shack, and then slowly but surely they made their way through the underground tunnel, stopping once for Draco to reapply whatever protection charms he had cast on his feet, and coming up underneath the Whomping Willow. Harry accio’d a stick, and with that they paused the waving branches and managed to climb out and onto the grounds of Hogwarts. Even though Harry had only taken this route a few times, it still felt like something familiar to him. The Willow reminded him of Remus and Sirius and his Father, it always made him smile when he saw it waving about from one of the school windows.  
  
Harry stood on the grass next to Draco and they both looked up in horror at the sky above Hogwarts. Above the highest turret, and formed from the clouds themselves, was a massive glowing Dark Mark. Even being used to the Mark on Draco’s arm could never have prevented Harry from the despair at seeing it hovering above the only place he had ever called home. Harry suddenly understood Draco’s drive to reclaim his own home. Hogwarts had been infiltrated, it had been desecrated and defiled, it was no longer the safe haven for Students and Professors alike. Now it was the place where Students were attacked in their beds. It’s hallways would be filled with the sounds of spells meeting spells. It’s very foundation would remember the feel of dark magic crashing against the stone of it’s walls.  
  
“Harry.” Draco whispered when Harry couldn’t pull his eyes away from the skull and the snake in the sky. He tugged at Harry’s hand, urging him on towards the castle.  
  
“There are people down here.” They were almost at the front doors when Draco pointed to the large group of students and Professors who were gathered together in a large circle. He could see them from the light spilling out from the Entrance Hall, which cast an eerie glow over the faces of all those who were standing close to it.  
  
“What’s going on?” Harry asked.  
  
“I don’t know.” Draco replied warily, but people’s expressions were starting to become clearer and Draco could tell whatever was in the middle of the gathering wasn’t a good thing.  
  
“Harry! Draco!” Hermione saw them first, she came barrelling towards them and threw her arms around Harry’s neck with a wet sob of despair.  
  
“What’s going on?” Harry asked lamely when Hermione clutched onto him and pressed her face into his jumper, “Did someone die?” He tried to joke, but it fell on deaf ears.  
  
Ron walked up to them with a grim set to his mouth and his hands stuffed into his pockets. Draco could see Ollivander and Octavius standing ten or so feet away from the gathering. Octavius had his arm wrapped around the shoulders of a young second year Ravenclaw, and Draco recognised him as the one who always brought Dumbledore’s notes to Harry. Octavius had mentioned another Son...Voldemort had known that Dumbledore would be out of the Castle. The little Ravenclaw spy had read the note, and he had known that Draco was in his own house that evening, no doubt from listening to Harry’s conversations. Draco wanted to be seething in anger, but he couldn’t muster it, the man had already lost one child to Voldemort, he didn’t deserve to lose another. No matter what the child was responsible for. When faced with the Dark Lord Draco knew more than most that it was impossible to refuse.  
  
“Come on Harry.” Ron peeled Hermione off him and passed her sobbing form to Draco, Draco wrapped his arms around her shoulders and squeezed her tightly. Ron gripped Harry’s shoulder and led him forward. The crowd parted for them instantly. Allowing Harry to move between them all the while being guided by Ron’s steady hand on his shoulder.  
  
“It’s Snape.” Hermione sobbed into Draco’s shoulder, “He planned it all.” She could hardly speak from the tears that were running down her face. Draco peeked through the gap that the students had made, and his eyes alighted on the old man at the same time as Harry’s.  
  
“Snape killed Dumbledore.” Hermione said and then she hiccupped and pressed her face back into his nightshirt. Draco could only watch as Harry dropped to his knees by the man who had been his mentor and his friend. He felt Harry’s despair filling every corner of his mind, filling him up with a sorrow so acute that he could feel himself welling up as well. His hands were shaking against Hermione’s shoulders and the force of Harry’s emotions was making his knees start to wobble.  
  
“Go help him. He needs you.” Hermione said after a moment. She pulled away from him and wiped at her eyes with her palms. Draco studied her face, she wasn’t by any means alright, but she was in a much better state than Harry and out of the two of them Draco knew who needed him more. Once Draco was sure Hermione wasn’t about to collapse he left her at the edge of the densely populated circle and tried to push his way through to Harry. The crowds didn’t part for him like they had for the Chosen One, but Draco forced his way through until he was standing at Harry’s side.  
  
The elder Wizard was laid out on the ground. His eyes were closed like he was sleeping peacefully. His long white hair lay like a fan around his peaceful face. His robes were perfectly placed, almost as though someone had fixed them while he lay there. Draco felt like he almost couldn’t look at him anymore. Dumbledore’s bright and cheery mismatched robes clashed so disturbingly with the sombreness of his expression and the bleak sound of muffled sobs that surrounded them.  
  
And Harry, his dear Harry, was bent over his body. He had one hand on Dumbledore’s chest and the other resting on top of Dumbledore’s good hand, as though shaking hands with him one last time. Draco fell to his knees next to Harry, telling him without needing to speak a word,  _ ‘I am here. I am always here _ .’ Harry looked over to him, with tears flowing from his eyes and silent sobs jerking his shoulders up and down.  
  
“There’s nothing you could have done.” Draco whispered, “I know that’s what you’re thinking. You would have gotten yourself killed. Then where would we be?”  
  
“I could have-” Harry tried to speak.  
  
“No, Darling. You know you couldn’t.” Draco pressed a kiss to his temple and gently pulled him away from Dumbledore’s body, tugging him until they were both sitting down on the grass a few feet away, with the dew seeping through the material of his pyjama trousers and soaking him through.  
  
“Look Harry.” Draco pointed to the sky. In their sorrow they hadn’t noticed everyone bringing out their wands. The Dark Mark was being swallowed by a light so intense that it looked almost like dawn had started early. The gathering of people had raised their wands in silent vigil and they continued to hold their wands aloft long after the Dark Mark had disappeared, paying their respects to a Wizard who had held their hearts from the very first moment they had met him.  
  
“There’s still so much he needed to tell me.” Harry said quietly, staring up at the light in the sky.  
  
“He trusted you to do what needs to be done.” Draco replied. He took Harry’s hand in his own and he clutched it against his mouth, pressing his lips to Harry’s knuckles.   
  
He already knew he would follow Harry to the end of the world and back, there was a prophecy that needed to be fulfilled and he would be damned if he allowed Harry to fulfil it alone. No matter the outcome, life or death, he would follow Harry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just the Epilogue to go <3


	60. Epilogue

Harry made his way through the abandoned halls of Hogwarts with his hands shoved deep into his pockets. Most of the students had been taken out of the school by their parents the day before, leaving only a handful of them to await the departure of the Hogwarts Express. Draco had gone down to the Slytherin dorms to pack his trunk, leaving Harry alone with his thoughts for the first time. It was no surprise that he found himself gravitating towards the entrance of the Headmasters Office. The Gargoyle looked down at him, and without waiting for a password it leapt to one side revealing the moving staircase behind.   
  
Harry’s knees shook slightly as he stepped onto the first step. He usually would have just climbed the stairs rather than waiting for them to reach the top, but today he stood still and waited for the stairs to carry him to the door of the office, he wasn’t entirely sure that his knees could support his body weight. He didn’t know what he would find when he reached the top. Would McGonagall have moved in already? Surely she would be the next Head. Would it be untouched, left frozen like a moment in time? Harry thought about Slytherins study, of the quill that had been left dripping ink onto the surface of the table, of the parchment left unrolled and half written. How much did Dumbledore know of the evening ahead? Had he been prepared?  
  
Logically Harry knew that Headmasters and Headmistresses came and went, and logically he knew that Dumbledore was not the first, nor the last, to reside in that office. But his mind's eye still painted Dumbledore sitting behind his desk, standing on Harry’s arrival and welcoming him in with a wave of his arm and a twinkle in his eye.   
  
Harry pushed the door open with a trembling hand. The office was as it always had been. Full to the brim with books, and delicate shining instruments that spun and twirled from every surface. Only this time there was no Headmaster to welcome him in and urge him to sit, and the perch next to the desk was empty of it’s usual golden bird. Harry approached the desk slowly, worried that someone would catch him in there and send him away. He went to run his hand across the arm of the chair that he had sat in so many times, but an item on the desk caught his eye instead. A jewelled and polished tiara, but unlike last time he had seen it, Harry felt no magical pull towards it. It was simply a shiny piece of jewellery once more. It sat proudly in line with a square stoned ring, a destroyed book with an inky hole burnt clear through, and a single vial holding a bright swirling memory. In front of the line of mismatched items was a folded note with  _ Harry  _ written on the front in familiar handwriting. Harry reached for it with shaking fingers.  
  
_ Harry,  
_ _ There are things I can predict, and there are things I cannot. Though there were a great many things still left to teach, I know I have prepared you for the task you face.   
_ _ I leave these items to you, you will know what to do when the time is right.  
_ _ Your parents truly would be proud of the man you have become.  
_ _ Forever your teacher, forever your friend  
_ _ Albus  
  
_ Harry looked at the items laid out on the desk, and he reached into his pocket and pulled out the item that hadn’t left his person since he had retrieved it from the stiff grip of Dumbledore’s hand. It looked larger in his own palm, filling the space between his fingers perfectly. But the relief that he had felt upon finding it on Dumbledore’s person had long since faded. It was no more than a cheap piece of fake gold with a folded up note where a Horcrux should have been.  
  
Dumbledore was right about one thing, Harry was faced with a task, and he finally had a place to start.   
  
_ R.A.B.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
_ _ To Be Continued... _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to all of my wonderful, amazing, supportive readers. You've made this such a pleasant experience. I've never written anything as monstrous as this trilogy and I massively look forward to sharing the next one with you. Unfortunately it's yet to be finished, and I prefer to finish my fic before posting so that I can keep a daily schedule. It won't be another 140,000 word behemoth though, it'll be shorter and will hopefully be a nice little closer to Harry and Draco's story. 
> 
> When I am ready to post it I will add another chapter to this fic to announce it and I'll include a link straight to it. I would really recommend that you subscribe to this fic if you'd like an email notification when the next one has been posted.
> 
> I think that's everything I have to say. I love you all, I appreciate you all, and I hope with all my heart that you continue to follow me on this journey.
> 
> Bye for now  
> x


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